An Unforeseen Adventure
by ladypearlofarguile
Summary: Thorin and Bilbo become separated from the main company. An unforeseen adventure ensues! Please comment & Review! I lurv 'em. :) Adventure/Drama/Friendship
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THE AMAZING AND FANTASTIC J.R.R. TOLKIEN. I RECIEVED NO PROFIT FROM THIS STORY. IT WAS DONE MERELY FOR FUN. THANKS.**

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"By Aule! Hobbit, if you continue to make so much noise I will silence you in a manner that you will not enjoy!" Thorin hissed angrily at the small creature behind him, as Bilbo unceremoniously tumbled awkwardly into a bush .

The Hobbit however, was in no mood to be hushed. "You make twenty times more noise in a single hour than I on this entire journey!" Getting up with a dark scowl that was unusual for the jovial Hobbit, he glared at the Dwarf Lord.

"Where are we anyway?" He asked, changing the subject.

Thorin looked heavenwards in annoyment, as if asking for patience, and replied with an edge, "We are not lost. If that was what you were thinking. These lands are well known to me, and there is little chance of becoming lost in them."

The Hobbit and the Dwarf had been traveling at a great pace for hours, having become separated from the Company and now attempting to lose an annoying but small pack of orcs that were not giving up easily. Needless to say both the travelers were mentally lamenting the fact that they had such ill luck as to be stuck with the other. Bilbo did not like the sullen Dwarf, nor Thorin the Hobbit.

Thorin was especially disappointed with the hand that fate had dealt him, as now it seemed to him that he must play nursemaid and care for this ridiculous Hobbit. It was only honor and the thought of Gandalf's wrath that had kept him from leaving the poor fellow behind.

Bilbo however, was growing tired from the constant running, and Thorin still showed no sign of slowing.

"Have we lost them yet?" came that foolish Hobbit's voice yet again. By Durin's beard! The Hobbit knew little next to nothing of the world outside his Hobbit Hole! Why on earth had Gandalf wanted to bring the useless creature? To hold his staff and hat when required? For this was indeed the only use Thorin could see for Bilbo.

With yet a sharper edge , "No Mr. Baggins. We have not. And we will not if you carry on so."

"It wasn't my idea to go along with you! You are the last person I should want to be stuck with on this..." he waved his hand angrily searching for the word, "Ridiculous treasure-hunt turned disaster!"

Thorin turned at that, "Ridiculous treasure-hunt?!"

Bilbo had started, and perhaps his Tookish side had something to do with it or his growing disgruntlement, but at any rate he was not ready to stop. "Yes! Ridiculous! All of it!"

Thorin looked as if he heartily disagreed with that statement, but then appeared to settle down, "Of course, you are but a Hobbit, and I should not expect you to understand the ways of the world." He smirked condescendingly.

Bilbo bristled at these words. "That may be so," The Hobbit answered with an air of dignity,"But it is no cause to be uncivil. And that's precisely how you have been behaving these last few hours Thorin."

"We'll turn Northeast here." Thorin said, on purposely changing the subject. Although he would not admit it, he was actually somewhat ruffled by the Hobbit's observation. Perhaps he was indeed letting his disdain for the Hobbit show too clearly; perhaps he ought to make a greater effort... It wasn't as if it was entirely the Hobbit's fault. Gandalf had been the one to insist that he be brought along after all.

While Thorin was having these thoughts, Bilbo sighed and shouldered his pack. This would be a long day.

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"I think I'll write a book. I've been taking so many notes on the peoples we've encountered, so I expect a book is as good a use as any for them." Bilbo mused out loud.

"Shh!" Thorin glanced around the woods and gingerly tapped the ground with his boot. His brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"Something's not right..." He said slowly.

"What are you talking about? I can't hear a thing!" Bilbo looked worried. He should have been the first to hear anything...

"I tell you, the Earth is rumbling in displeasure! Just listen! I can feel it! Something has happened!" Thorin stroked his beard.

"But-" Bilbo began.

"Mr. Baggins, if it is impossible for you to keep silent-", Thorin never finished this sentence, for much to his terror, and that of Mr. Baggins, the ground caved in below him in one terrible and hungry opening. With a shout Thorin disappeared.

"Thorin! Thorin!" Bilbo squeaked in dismay.

Scampering around the edge of that gaping hole, and nearly falling in himself once or twice, he craned his head attempting to discover Thorin's fate.

What he saw relieved him. Thorin, covered in a good amount of soil and looking terribly displeased and anxious for his own safety, was hanging by a single large tree root. Luckily his position was one which Bilbo could reach, and he started forward to offer his hand.

Spitting out soil the Dwarf, seeing the danger to Bilbo's plan shouted out, "Don't be ridiculous Baggins, and don't come any closer! I'm much too heavy for you. and you won't be able to pull me up without falling in yourself."

One must remember that Thorin was one of the larger Dwarves, and therefore a good deal larger than Bilbo. This, combined with the light armor and mail he was wearing and the treacherous soil, would undoubtedly be too much for Bilbo to manage.

"Well what am I supposed to do!?" Bilbo shouted in vexation.

Thorin attempted to find a foothold, and was about to say something, "Baggins, I-"

"Wait wait wait wait! I have an idea! Hang on!" Bilbo disappeared and Thorin sighed, and muttered morosely, "That is precisely what I am doing..." He glanced down at the rumbling earth below him. It looked to be a terribly long drop.

He was suddenly interrupted from his thoughts by a rope promptly falling into his face accompanied by a shower of soil. Coughing on the dust, he shouted back out, "Good work Baggins!"

Bilbo called back, "Just half a moment!" a slight pause and then, "Right! Can you pull yourself up?"

Thorin gladly swung himself onto the rope, climbing up the shaft with ease. Bilbo had wrapped the line around a tree, bracing himself against it and giving it all he was worth. The look of relief on Bilbo's face when Thorin appeared from the edge was indeed sincere, although his dirty appearance was of a comical nature, and any other person might have laughed.

Bilbo gave a grateful sigh, "Well! I thought I'd lost you there for a moment! Good to have you back", Bilbo grinned and he meant it.

Thorin had a strange look, and genuinely seemed uncomfortable. "I am..., indebted to you Bilbo, and I owe you my life." He coughed here, possibly because of the soil, or possibly for other reasons, "Thank you."

Bilbo looked surprised. Thorin actually acting civil? Well this was the age of miracles. "Well, that's what friends are for, or so they say." He managed out with a wry smile.

Thorin, seeming to catch the Hobbit's unspoken amusement smiled back, as he said, "Well, it seems you are finally earning your keep." On a more serious note he added, "I will not forget this Bilbo Baggins. You have done me a great service."

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"I leave for but a day, a single day, and I return to find that you have misplaced your leader and my burglar!" Gandalf said with a good amount of irritation.

"It wasn't exactly our fault Master Gandalf." Balin replied , "It might have all been avoided if you saw fit to stay with your chosen company." He eyed Gandalf with some defiance.

"As I told you before, I had business elsewhere. I had trusted in your ability to safeguard yourselves for at least a little while. But even that proved disastrous. And now you have no leader or burglar. A fine mess if I might say so." Gandalf glared at Balin, as if to drive his point in still harder.

Balin looked as if he might return the glare, but perhaps better judgement kept him from angering the wizard further. He seemed to inwardly sigh, "Very well. Perhaps you will now help us to correct the situation."

The wizard, sensing his triumph went on, "Yes, I will. There are some ruins a days journey up the road. Wait there until my return; I will attempt to find your leader for you."

With stiff politeness Balin bowed slightly to Gandalf, "A generous offer. You have our gratitude."

Gandalf said nothing, and merely smoked his pipe for a few moments in silence. Watching as Balin directed the other dwarves into making preparations for another day's travel, however, Fili and Kili did not seem very pleased. They approached the wizard with very determined looks on their faces.

"Master Gandalf." Fili began, "We would accompany you on your quest."

Gandalf, guessing their reasons and looking incredibly amused by them, took his pipe out of his mouth, "And why, might I ask?"

Fili answered, "It's a matter of honor and friendship."

Kili nodded in agreement. "Our uncle and a friend is in possible danger. We would not stay behind when there is something we can do."

"And if I refuse I suppose I would have to order Balin to tie you both up. It seems the entire line of Durin is as stubborn as the earth itself." Gandalf mused aloud.

Fili and Kili grinned, "We'll take that as a compliment, thank you very much."

Gandalf thought this over for a moment, as Fili and Kili hung onto that pause, and then gave his verdict.

"Very well, very well. Make ready then. I will wait for you."

Fili and Kili bowed in unison, and left to gather their belongings.

Gandalf smiled. The joy in these youngsters was indeed wonderful to see. Their zest for life and their unquenchable spirit for adventure made all around feel lighter as it was. A pity their sunlight had not penetrated Thorin.

But life is full of unforeseen turns. Who knows? Perhaps one day. He thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: ONCE AGAIN THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO THE FANTASTIC J.R.R. TOLKIEN. I IN NO WAY RECIEVED PROFIT FROM THIS. TWAS FOR FUN.**

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The sun had fled the sky, making way for the silvery moon, with it's white and ghostlike rays penetrating the cold dark. The air had a stillness of waiting rather then peace, and the cold in the air was a sharp one, biting in with it's sharp chill. Bilbo shivered and settled deeper into his bed. Looking up at the dark blanket of lights above him, he viewed the unparalleled glory of the night sky. The stars shone with a brilliance that he had not truly noticed before while in Bag End. At least if he had gained anything on this journey, it was an appreciation for the beauty about him. The day had become altogether much more agreeable in the last hour, he was comfortably full of a decent meal and half ready to fall asleep.

He turned his head and watched Thorin as he once more stared moodily into the fire. Since the incident earlier that day the dwarf had been much more pleasant, at least in his outwardly mannerisms towards the Hobbit, but had now sunk back into his customary and solitary thoughts. What Thorin could possibly find so interesting in a campfire Bilbo didn't know. He himself preferred to spend these evenings chatting lightheartedly with the other dwarves after a good meal. But Thorin was not one that enjoyed this.

The silence was broken as a deep and rich baritone voice began to sing softly in a language that Bilbo had in all his years never heard the like of. It was rolling and ancient sounding as the very hills, yet fresh as a day in Spring. He could not understand the words, but the song fascinated him. It was not Elvish, of this Bilbo was sure. Thorin did not seem to have great love of elves, and it did not seem likely he would use their language. The song had a wistful edge to it, and one of mourning and joy at the same time.

Bilbo listened, until the words came to an end, and silence creeped over the world once again save for the crackling of the fire and the call of those few birds that dare the night.

"Was that Dwarvish?" He asked softly, his eyes widening in awe of that which sounded so very alien to him.

Thorin seemed startled that Bilbo had spoken at all. "I... I thought you were asleep Hobbit. Had I known I would not have troubled you."

"Oh, no. That's fine. You didn't keep me up at all." Bilbo hastily replied.

Thorin nodded, and seemed to turn back to the fire. After a few moments he slowly answered Bilbo's first question.

"Yes."

"What?" Bilbo asked.

"That is the language of my people". Thorin answered with his back turned.

Bilbo was genuinely surprised. Thorin had actually answered his question, and one pertaining to dwarves at that! Silent for a moment, he decided to press his luck.

"How many languages do the Dwarves have? From what I learned in Rivendell the Elves has several. Is it the same with Dwarves?"

Thorin frowned at the mention of Elves, and looked at Bilbo. "Why so many questions Mr. Baggins? You should be resting."

Thorin looked back at the fire, but could not help seeing the disappointed look on Bilbo's face. By Aule. Why?! The Hobbit had saved his life after all. Perhaps he should answer a few of his questions, he was in Bilbo's debt after all.

He sighed, at least there was no one to hear him.

"My people have but one spoken language, the Kuzdul. We have spoken it since the beginning."

"And that was the language you were singing in?" Bilbo eagerly asked.

"Yes." Thorin smiled slightly underneath his beard. This halfling did indeed have a thirst for knowledge.

Bilbo paused for a moment, as if weighing his words, "What...I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to...It's just I would like to know...But what were you singing of?"

Thorin's heart sank. No one asks about a Song of Memory. The Dwarves knew enough of music and hearts to let well enough alone. It is the way one remembers those who have died by immortalizing them in a song from one's heart.

He did not and would not tell the Hobbit what he had been singing of. The Burglar would never understand anyway. The fire, the shattered dream, the lost love. Nolathrodel, his Nola, would never come back to him. They were both so young, and taken from each other so soon! Nola, whose dark hair fell about her shoulders in soft waves, eyes that could see through one's soul, and had a smile that the Arkenstone would envy. The Song of Memory was all that he had left of her. This was a private matter.

_A young Thorin, bright eyed and young, with a joy for life like that of the world on the first day of Spring. Life at it's fullest, brimming and growing. Unquenchable, tireless, and a desire to explore all the mysteries that life might hold. . _

_A Dwarf maiden is beside him, dark and beautiful. With eyes that are like dark pools of knowledge with a merry fire burning within, cheeks like a fairy, and hair as long and fair as the sea itself. Nola, a princess of the Longbeards, kindness and understanding in her countenance, with a beauty unsurpassed._

_They stand before a golden case studded with many small gems, images of great deeds of the Dwarven people adorn it, with many impossible tales of courage and insurmountable obstacles. Yet there they stand, a memory of another time and a symbol of pride. Kept inside is the greatest surviving heirloom of those of Durin's Line, the Heart of the Mountain, the Arkenstone. _  
_Thorin smiles at Nola, she has never set eyes on the glorious stone. "Nola, are you ready?"_

_Her eyes widen in expectation, and wordlessly nods. _

_Thorin opens the case, allowing a silver light to pour forth;shining like so many moonbeams with a brilliance that has not been seen in this world since the Silmarils. The stone seems to hold a lifeforce of it's own within it's crystal walls, with the very edges barely shining out. That which does make it from the core of the stone to the outer world is breathtaking, stealing away any words or thought the viewer might have. Holding the person fixated with it's aura of otherworldliness. _

_Nola gasps, with little sound escaping. The light is reflected from her eyes, as she views this which does not seem real, as if it is meant to return from whatever book or tale it had somehow fallen out of. _

_Thorin breaks the silence, his words coming in a soft whisper. _

_"Someday... when I am King Under the Mountain, and you are my Queen, this stone will be yours."_

_Nola turns from the stone to the face of her lover, "I already have a gem beyond worth. This stone, wondrous though it be, cannot compare with the raw beauty of the jewel I already possess."_

_Thorin's face takes on a look of puzzlement, he does not understand. _

_Nola laughs lightly. She caresses his face and smiles, "I would not give up my jewel for ten such Arkenstones. For that jewel is you Thorin. No other will ever compare."_

"It was an accident that you heard it at all Baggins." Thorin said thickly, " It is .. what would be called in the common tongue a …. a Song of Memory. Not for other's ears. nor to be discussed."

Bilbo sensed that he had struck a raw part in the Dwarf, "Oh...Sorry."

"You had no knowledge on this matter Mr. Baggins, and so I will not hold it against you." Thorin answered, stirring the fire that had died low. He placed more wood upon it, as the hungry flames leapt up to meet with it in a fiery embrace.

A sharp screech, accompanied by a yowl, sounded sharply in the air. Splitting the quiet around the two. Thorin lept up sword drawn, gazing suspiciously into the dark. Bending, he picked up a torch from the fire, peering at the shadows that fled the orange glow.

Bilbo stood up as well, drawing Sting and looking especially anxious but resolute if a battle should ensue.

Thorin glanced at Sting, and with a slight note of relief said, "Your blade does not glow blue, so it cannot be orcs thank the Valar."

"Oh, well that's good then..." Bilbo felt a great deal of tension leave him.

"I do not like these woods. Keep alert. There are other foul creatures besides orcs to fear. If they choose to do battle, it is best to be ready for such." Taking the torch he did a final scan of the surrounding woods, seeing nothing yet remaining untrusting of the area around.

After a moment he continued, "I shall take the first watch. Go to sleep now Mr. Baggins, you may well need it."

"Very well..." Bilbo said slowly, "But mind you don't take longer than your own watch hour! I can do my part, and I insist to take my fair share." Something told him that Thorin would not of his own accord allow him to watch long, if at all, and he was determined to prove that Hobbits could do just as much if not more than Dwarves.

Thorin smiled underneath his beard, guessing the Hobbit's thoughts. Well well well, perhaps this journey was doing some good for the poor fellow. Here he was now making demands to the Heir of Durin!

"As you wish Mr. Baggins. Now to sleep! Your watch may come sooner than you think." Thorin looked genuinely amused.

Yes, the journey was doing some good after all it seemed, at least where Bilbo's character was concerned. The spark that had been growing lately was getting stronger, much to Thorin's surprised pleasure. Perhaps there was something more to this hobbit after all. But the way Bilbo held his sword! It was enough to make any well trained warrior want to correct it. It would be no good at all if the Hobbit would be unable to defend himself if they ran into trouble.

Thorin settled himself into a more comfortable position, one in which he could see very well in. No, the Hobbit could not defend himself well. Perhaps it should be remedied.

He shivered as a cold wind blew across the camp and cut through, sending a chill down to his very bone. It would be a long and cold night, but he was a Dwarf. Patient and enduring as stone itself. The dawn was not long in coming, and he could wait.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: NO MONEY I HAZ GOT FROM DIS, TOLKIEN EZ AMAZINK. I PLAY WITH HIS CHARACTERS FOR FUN. ^_^ **

**Sorry I took so long in getting this up! Life is crazy sometimes dontcha know? Hope ya'all enjoy this bit. More to come soon!**

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Bilbo felt Thorin shake his shoulder, waking him for what seemed the twentieth time that night. This of course was possibly exaggerating, but then one must remember that Mr. Baggins was a hobbit. And hobbits do not enjoy being woken from their well liked, and some of them will claim well earned, sleep.

Although it was still dark; it was early dawn, and the world was just beginning to wake from it's deep slumber. No birds sang as yet, and even those that would call their eerie cries during the night seemed to have grown weary. The dim light was just beginning to cast the shadows in silver on the damp ground, as Bilbo muffled an almost involuntary irritated groan. This was a time when most hobbits, especially those that were respectable like our Mr. Baggins, would never be seen out of doors. All his neighbors would still be in their warm beds, dreaming of little else than breakfast for the next day.

Bilbo had been on the road long enough to flatter himself by saying he was well-traveled, although there are probably many that would disagree with him on that point, but still not gotten used to these hours. Thorin was even worse than the other Dwarves, whose sheer numbers had made the task of watches fairly easy, never giving the Hobbit more than an hour if anything.

He blinked...an hour? His last rest felt longer by far. He wrinkled his nose as the smell of cooking meat reached his nostrils, invading with it's delicious fragrance.

"Mr. Baggins, if you do not rise I will be forced to eat all of breakfast myself." Came the voice of Thorin; Bilbo could just see the Dwarf smirking in amusement.

Bilbo shot straight up like a rising corpse, as Thorin raised an eyebrow in surprise. Perhaps the Dwarf thought that he had misjudged the Hobbit's love of food. What a peculiar people halflings were...

"How long have I been asleep?!" Bilbo demanded sharply.

"Not four hours..." The Dwarf looked as if he had not expected the question.

"Four hours!? You took my watch!" Bilbo fumed. Thorin obviously did not think he was capable of doing his share.

"Hardly." The Dwarf replied evenly, "You were weary and stumbling over your own feet; I meant to break camp earlier." He then shrugged, "And I thought a meal would not go amiss."

"You think, that because I am a Hobbit, that I am incapable of taking my share! That I am unable to stand watch with the rest!" Bilbo scowled darkly, "Well I can, contrary to popular belief. If everyone would be kind enough to not be so kind and take my hour for me."

The murderous look the Hobbit had on his face was enough to convince Thorin to give in to his demands. The Hobbit would tire of this new fancy soon. No matter.

"Well then, you can even the score tonight Mr. Baggins." Thorin replied, attempting to appease the disgruntled Halfling.

Bilbo crossed his arms and fell into a sulking silence, glaring at the Dwarf. Thorin shifted, he did not feel comfortable with the Hobbit looking at him, as if he had done something wrong. Which he of course hadn't. He had only done it because he was better suited to it then a hobbit. He had a difficult enough time trusting the eyes and ears of the other Dwarves. His own senses were by far more reliable. The Hobbit had been weary after all...

He sprinkled a pinch of herbs on the meat cooking over the fire; the rest had done the Hobbit well after all. He looked much better than four hours ago, it was well that Thorin had let him rest.

"Wrong."

"What?" The voice had startled Thorin out of his thoughts. He looked at the Hobbit, who still had his scowl on and arms crossed in a manner worthy of a great judge viewing something distasteful.

"Wrong." He sat down, and pinching the herbs smelled them. "Just as I thought."

Thorin was visibly showing his irritation now. "What?" he asked gruffly.

"It's all wrong. What on earth are you thinking, using that?" Bilbo looked as if he was judging something that was not fit for human consumption.

Thorin bristled. Now the Hobbit was questioning his culinary abilities, this was going too far.

"This is an old recipe meant for journeys. If you do not care to have any, that is your business." He said with an air of dignity, "And I am quite capable of cooking a decent meal at the least."

Bilbo shrugged, he wasn't going to argue. He sat down on a convenient stone at the opposite side of the fire.

"I could take over you know..." He said, half hoping to save the meal and half hoping to be given at least something to do. Thorin seemed to think he could do everything himself. If it kept up this way, there would be a very well rested Hobbit in full health and one sour and weary Dwarf.

"No." Thorin answered with a tone that made for no contradiction, he would prove to this foolish Hobbit that he could cook. If Durin's heir could do one thing, it would be the ability to make a decent meal. No, he made no false pretences of being an authority on the culinary art, but he knew enough.

"Are you sure?" Bilbo said, almost wincing as the foreseen answer came.

"No."

"So there's no chance of-well-none at-" here Bilbo was interrupted by Thorin.

"Mr. Baggins, if you-" Thorin began.

"Right. Right." Bilbo nodded abruptly, turning sharply and walking around the camp for lack of anything to do.

Thorin growled under his breath as he felt the Hobbit's presence circle him again and again. Valar! How anyone could be so annoying he knew not how.

A few moments passed in silence, as the fire hissed in pleasure as it licked the sides of the meat in delight.

"I'm going to the creek to wash up." Bilbo finally said, stuffing his hands snuggly into his trouser pockets.

Thorin still seemed ruffled by Bilbo's culinary expertise, and answered with an edge, "Fine then. Fill the water skin while you're there, and mind that you aren't too long about it."

Surely the Hobbit couldn't bungle this small task, Thorin thought. Relieved to have the Hobbit out of his presence and be left to his own thoughts for a moment. He took the herbs up again in his hand, bringing it to his nose and inhaling.

It did not smell as well as it did before, perhaps the Halfling was right.

Humph. Well the Hobbit would learn something of real Dwarven cooking to dazzle the imagination should they ever regain the mountain.

Thinking these thoughts and of what he once called home made his heart suddenly sink, feeling the heaviness of doubt and hopelessness. For what hope was there to be had? An involuntary sigh escaped him. By the light of the Valar! How?! How was he, a small company of Dwarves, and a mere Hobbit to defeat a dragon and reclaim an ancient stronghold?

Things had been very different a year ago, when he first saw the Grey Pilgrim. He remembered well, the smoke rings that half hid him from the eyes of the inhabitants of Bree, little knowing who it was they had as a guest that night.

He had thought then that perhaps the Valar had smiled on him that day, for if anyone could help his people, none better could be found then Gandalf the Grey. The marvelous tales of his deeds and abilities did not fall on deaf ears, Gandalf the Grey! Gandalf the Grey, sitting there in the same inn on the edge of Spring not far from Bree. It was remarkable chance that had brought him there that day.

It was then that Thorin, for the first time in many long years, dared to hope. Hope that one day he might see again the home of his forefathers and reclaim what was rightfully his people's. But most importantly, to avenge those that the foul worm had torn from life.

Ah Erebor! When would he see the home of his childhood again? When would he feel your ancient stone and walk your great caverns again? When could he walk the ways he used to? Before the exile, when they still had had so much. He still remembered the music, the lights, the mischief he would get pulled into by Frerin.

A thousand curses on that worm Smaug! May his skin wither and his eyes rot!

He would see the old Drake killed, for Frerin, for Dis, For his father and grandfather, for all of his people. Never would he rest till they were avenged.

If the quest had started with little hope, there was even less now.

His heart was full of misgivings. Perhaps the wizard was having some sort of private joke or mocking him. Probably both. He was separated from the company, with no one but the Hobbit who depended on him for survival. Perhaps it was lucky, for Bilbo at least. The Hobbit would surely die if lost alone in these rugged and wild lands. Thorin had no wish for that to happen.

But Aule! It would have been better to leave the fellow where he belonged, with his people!

He sat silent, bowed with the many troubles on his mind.

It had not been more than five minutes since Bilbo had left before Thorin had a strange feeling well up from the ground into his bones. The Earth seemed almost in pain, with the world seeming to hold it's breath making it all the more noticeable. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. He stood up, cooking success or failure depending on how one looked at it, forgotten, he drew Orcrist. The blade glowed an ominous blue. The Hobbit was in danger.  
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	4. Chapter 4

**FOR DISCLAIMER READ PREVIOUS CHAPTER(s) **

**Here ya are. Hope you all enjoy! I want to say a big thank you for all your kind words! Cheers!**

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Gandalf was annoyed.

It is not often that a wizard of his years and wisdom was, but as it was at that moment he was terribly annoyed, and getting more annoyed by the moment.

Perhaps it was the ceaseless chatter and what Gandalf liked to call "buffoonery" going on behind him, or perhaps that they had still found no trace of Bilbo or Thorin, or perhaps that he was finding signs of Orc activity. At any rate, the wizard was not pleased.

"Yeah, Mum tanned his hide!You should have seen it. Never saw him look so sheepish." Kili laughed.

"Lucky she didn't tan yours as well." Fili smirked in answer. "What did you think you were doing anyway? Dragging Uncle into your own scrapes."

"Oi. He welcomed the distraction. It's not as if he doesn't like a good fight now and then himself!"

Both the young Dwarves, for some reason of their own, thought this was terribly funny, and burst into loud and boisterous mirth.

Gandalf on the other hand, had quite the opposite reaction. Things were starting to look bad, and the lack of attention from the lads was beginning to grate on his nerves. He blew upwards into his beard in an irritated manner. Out of experience he had found that it had a pleasing effect on most people, rendering them silent with dismayed looks, but either Fili and Kili did not notice, or they ignored it. The Dwarves continued to laugh at previous escapades until sharply interrupted by the vexed wizard.

"Fili and Kili! Either you silence your tongues or I shall silence them for you!" He gripped his staff as if he meant to cast a horrible spell on them, frowning at them in disapproval.

The smiles fell immediately.

"What was the use in bringing you two along I should like to know!" Gandalf said out loud, talking mostly to himself.

"I take offense at that Master Gandalf!" Kili piped up, and was violently elbowed by his older brother.

"Sorry Gandalf," Fili said, all business and suddenly becoming the responsible one, "What can we do to help?"

Gandalf waved his hand about with a despairing air, "Well if Dwarves can fly and Orcs are friendly then I don't expect there will be much of a problem. As it is I can find nothing of your Uncle or my Burglar."

Both the Dwarves faces visibly fell.

"And" continued Gandalf, "I might have better luck if two Dwarves were giving me a hand instead of discussing their family's relations."

"Oh! Sorry!" Both the Dwarves said at the same time, looking extremely sheepish as they began looking about for signs of Bilbo and Thorin.

Gandalf nodded in satisfaction.

Now he had gotten those two lazy-good-for-nothings to work, there was a better chance of finding the missing company members. Very good.

But there were still the Orcs to consider, they were still about, and unless he was very much mistaken two weary travelers would seem an easy target. Thorin, warrior though he was, could not hope to fight an entire group off by himself. The wizard was sure, or rather hoped, that he would defend Bilbo to the last.

"I hope for goodness sake you take care of yourself Mr. Baggins." Gandalf said to the air, wondering where in Middle Earth Thorin and Bilbo could be. Fili and Kili were searching the grounds now with a good amount of zeal. Perhaps the Dwarves were not as lazy as he first thought, and that they needed only a task to perform. With two more looking for signs, Gandalf hoped they might fare better, but things still looked very bleak. Yes, the wizard was annoyed.

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"I try, I really do!" Bilbo muttered angrily.

Thorin had to be the most stubborn and unpleasant person he had ever had the misfortune to meet. Bilbo had merely attempted to see to a good breakfast for the both of them, and the Dwarf in his stubbornness had doomed them to what Bilbo was sure would taste horrible.

If anyone in the company knew anything about the culinary arts, it would be Mr. Baggins of Bag End. They could ask all over Hobbiton, and they would get the same answer.

Who is the best cook in these parts?

Why Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End sure enough!

He had the entire of Hobbiton to back him up on this matter.

Bilbo was also perturbed about the matter of the watch. Who was Thorin to take his work? It was not because Bilbo was incapable. The Dwarf had absolutely no trust in the Hobbit, of this Bilbo was sure. Why else would he behave in such a manner?

"Would serve him right if I let him do everything. He can stay up all night for all I care."

Still grumbling, the Hobbit made his way down to the stream, reaching it's stony banks in a short time. Placing his feet on a rock, he leaned over watching the rushing water fly over the stones like the wind from a hurricane. The rocks bravely braced themselves against this torrent, never moving with a stubbornness strangely akin to that of Thorin's. Small fish darted in the deepest part from rock to rock, as if afraid to be seen in the sunlight.

The water was bitter cold, chilling the air around and sticking it's freezing fingers down Bilbo's coat. Bilbo opened the top of the water skin, feeling it's old and worn sides. It had clearly seen much use, going from place to place and seeing lands far beyond even these. Bilbo mused about what adventures and deeds it had been silent witness to. He looked at it grimly, nothing like dragons though.

The water numbed his fingers almost immediately on contact, kissing them with it's cold embrace. Bilbo pushed it lower as the water fled into the opening, like the fish afraid to be seen.

He was just about to begin washing himself when he heard loud crack followed by a roar. He shot up, looking fearfully around. A few birds flew up as if trying to add to his confusion. He felt frantically at his side for Sting, drawing it and turning in a full circle in order to view the surrounding area.

The elvish dagger glowed an angry blue, almost seeming to crave battle with the foul creatures it had been made to destroy. It's sleek edges ran up to the elegant hilt, reflecting the sunlight on that glorious morning.

"Bother burglarizing, treasure, wizards, dwarves, dragons, and the whole lot!" he hissed to himself.

"I only wish I was next to my warm fire at home!"

"A little late for that now ain't it?" A nasal voice with a distinguished raspy quality said, accompanied by an evil and amused chuckle.

Bilbo gasped.

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The stream shone and sparkled in the sunlight, as a deer arched it's graceful neck to drink of it's waters. The waters danced about, singing in it's gurgling voice songs that have been sung since the beginning of the world. A songbird sang mockingly at the deer, perhaps due to some private dispute. The deer looked up with large brown eyes, gazing quizzically at the small creature, and shook its horns. Looking up suddenly in alarm, it bounded away in a majestic leap just as a Dwarf crashed through the foliage.

"Hobbit!" Thorin shouted, sword drawn and ready for battle.

There was no answer.

The stream was utterly deserted, with the songbird screeching at Thorin in derision. Where had the Halfling gone?

Scanning the area for any helpful information, Thorin eyes lighted upon the forgotten water skin. Wrenching it up from it's resting place he looked around and called again.

"Bilbo!"

Still no answer.

Durin's beard! Why had he been so foolish as to send the Halfling alone?!

Bending down in the soft earth he found the light prints of a Hobbit, and the unmistakable Iron Shod feet of the Orc. Cursing, he gazed wildly about. Had the Halfling been captured?!

Thorin knew orcs well, and shuddered thinking of what they were capable of. The Halfling was in trouble, possibly the worst kind, and through no fault of his own. It was through Thorin's fault that this had happened...

"I'm sorry Bilbo..." he whispered in regret and remorse.

He looked at Orcrist, glowing with a desire to do what it had been made to do. He set his jaw firmly, and held out the sword looking at its gleaming sides. Thought of the foul creatures filled his veins with an angry fire. He knew what he had to do, honor and duty called him to do it. He grasped the hilt more firmly.

"Let us go find and aid our Mr. Baggins." he said with a good deal of determination.

He knew it could easily end in absolute failure, but the Hobbit was a member of the company. As leader it was Thorin's duty to see to each and every company member's safety. Bilbo was in danger, and Thorin put him in that danger. Therefore Thorin must help him out of that situation if possible. It was that simple. There was no alternative. And if Bilbo was dead? The orcs would pay in blood whether Bilbo was alive or not, he would see to that. He could at the least avenge him.

He turned to go, but wait! What was this?

A set of Hobbit tracks,, like a glimmer of hope, pointing in the soft earth deeper into the foreboding forest. Perhaps in a panic Bilbo had sped off? He might then yet be well!

But with orcs close behind. Not a desirable option, but better then being captured. That is if he was still free.

Standing up and straightening he started at a good pace himself in the direction Bilbo had gone, hoping against hope that he would reach him in time. If Bilbo was in trouble he would do his best to help him. The Hobbit would not survive long on his own, and especially not with Orcs in pursuit.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: SEE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. DANKE. **

**Hope you all enjoy this! Please comment, I lurv comments. They really make my day. ;) **

**Oh yes, Thorin gets hurt a bit in this chapter. I don't know, I was feeling violent. What can I say? xP**

**Oh, Yanoe: If you were thinking on the lines of Slash, this is not a slash story, and I don't intend on making it into one...It's more of a Friendship/Adventure/Drama thingie...But as for Romance of the usual kind...Hmm. Who knows? The wilds are strange lands, full of strange folk. And I have no idea where this story is going. xD Perhaps in a sequel should I write one. Thanks for your kind words! So glad you enjoy it! :D **

**P.S. Sorry for ending on such a lame note. Oh well, it'll make ye all excited for the next wee chapter. I already got pummeled by me sister. So ye mae now throw yer pies at me. :P **

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Bilbo gasped, sucking air into his aching lungs. Leaning against a tree he attempted to soothe the screaming organs. He had run farther than he had ever thought possible for a person of his age or size, but then again fear did that to a body. Allowing for deeds beyond the ability of a normal person, and seeing the ugly orc had shocked him badly. He had not waited, knowing he could never fight off the brute, and had pelted into the woods as fast as his legs could carry him. Which was now deep in the forest far away from wherever Thorin might be. As if that wasn't bad enough, he could hear the Orc hacking away at the underbrush and screaming curses.

By instinct, he dropped, throwing himself under an old log that the years had hollowed out to form a sort of shelter. The moss grew over it like hair, with the damp ground smelling unpleasantly. His heart seemingly pounded with the deep thumping of a drum, so that he wondered how it was that he was not heard. Trying in vain to force his lungs to let his breath out evenly, he inwardly winced as he heard the Orc come very close indeed.

Despite his fear and present situation Bilbo rolled his eyes; how did the Orc expect to catch anyone carrying on so? He would not be surprised if all the residents of this forest heard the creature beforehand and made an easy escape to whatever place they called home.

If there was anything Bilbo wanted at the moment, that was it, Home. He missed the green fields and babbling brooks more than ever, and was now quite convinced that he probably would never see them again.

"I suppose I shan't be finishing my garden this year..." he thought bitterly. Which really was a pity to Bilbo, as he had planned something very spectacular this year to rival those nasty Sacksville Bagginses. They never had forgiven him for inheriting Bag End and hoped that Bilbo would die as soon as possible in the hopes that they would receive ownership of the fine Hobbit Hole. He scowled at the thought, promising himself that he would find a way to ensure that Bag End would never be theirs, if he ever returned from this disaster.

He then froze, as the orc's breath came thick and heavy, so that he thought he could almost feel the foul creature. Time seemed to freeze, and whether it was due to Bilbo's fear or just the impressive aura of the exceedingly large creature behind him Bilbo could not tell. The Orc did not come from the mountains, of this he was sure. It was large and muscular, rather than the smaller twisted forms of Goblin that inhabited the deep places of the world. Glancing through a crack in the wood he could just make out the faint outline of the creature hunting for him.

As soon as it had come, it was gone. The breathing ceased. Bilbo visibly relaxed, loosening his tight muscles, and guessing that the Orc's curiosity had been satisfied. He let out a little breath of relief which was followed by a loud yelp as an iron fist clawed into his shoulder, pulling him out of his hiding place. A grinning leer was what welcomed him, as the Orc looked visibly pleased at his discovery.

"Well, well. What have we got here?" the orc licked his lip in a most discomforting way, "A little rat hiding in his hole, eh?"

Bilbo eyes grew as large as saucers, and without a moment's more delay, his quick hands whipped out the forgotten Elvish blade at his side and slashed into the Orc's arm. Howling with pain, the Orc grabbed his bleeding limb, letting his prize fall onto the ground.

Snarling with unbelievable animalistic fury, the Orc pulled out his own weapon and began circling Bilbo.

"So it wants to play does it?" the creature growled, coming closer with a murderous look in its eyes.

Bilbo's trembling hands pointed Sting at the now seemingly enormous enemy, taking a cautious step backwards. The Orc however smirked maliciously, following Bilbo's every move.

He's playing with me, the Hobbit thought miserably as he attempted to get his shaking hands under control.

"I think you'll find, little maggot, that this game's too big for you." The Orc grinned, showing his yellow and pointed teeth. Bilbo gasped as he saw that the orc was preparing to do a devastating pounce, but it was then that strange chance intervened.

A blur, only half the size of the creature before him, knocked full speed into the Orc. Both were sent sprawling into the leaves. Bilbo shouted, it was Thorin Oakenshield. How he had found him he knew not how, but the sight of the surly Dwarf was one for sore eyes.

The Orc was the first to recover from the blow, looking up with a hateful gaze at the creature that had dared to interrupt his amusement. Pulling out an ugly and twisted dagger he rose and made for Thorin with a terrible scream. Thorin realized what was happening just in time and administered a savage kick. A satisfactory cry of pain came from Thorin's opponent, who struck again with the dagger as Thorin rolled neatly out of range.

Bilbo ran forward with sword in hand, his own peculiar battle cry rising from his throat, when his foot snagged in a root. With a sickening twist he felt the muscles in his foot shudder, a rising pain bubble up from his agonized foot. He fell to the ground with a gasp and hissed as his nerves screamed angrily.

Thorin swung Orcrist with a great and mighty heave, but the Orc easily dodged it, and struck at Thorin's unprotected middle. Perhaps it was the fact that Thorin lost his balance from his previous attack, or mere luck, but the blade missed it's target. Instead grazing Thorin's side with a venomous fury. Thorin roared as he felt the blade enter his flesh, and instinctively struck outwards, landing a square blow in the Orc's face with his fist.

The enemy stepped backwards, stunned by this blow and holding his eye. Thorin, sensing the opportunity struck again with Orcrist, slicing the servant of Sauron's leg. Orcrist seemed to shine with a devilish delight, having struck a blow at last.

The flesh of the wound seemed to hiss with the contact of an Elvish blade, and the battle fire seemed to die for a brief moment in the eyes of the Orc, fear replacing the evil light for a brief moment. Stepping back he snarled defensively at his much smaller but fierce enemy.

The Orc licked his lip again, this time covered with his own dark blood, showing his teeth at Thorin his eyes grinned at the taste with a malignant gleam.

Thorin gripped Orcrist, swinging it skillfully and standing in battle stance. The tall Orc seemed almost amused by this display and said something in his horrible grating speech. Bilbo shuddered to hear it, for its sound was as foul as its intent.

Thorin then replied something stony and threatening in his own strange language, a dangerous light in his eyes as he looked at the Orc with hate. The Orc cocked his head in an amused manner, not understanding the words but the jist of the message.

The Orc laughed as he said, "Beardling is angry eh? I'll fix that."

The orc charged roaring with his weapon in hand, aiming a heavy blow for Thorin's head. Thorin raised Orcrist to block it, and the Orc laid a hard blow with his free hand to Thorin's face.

Thorin stumbled backwards, dazed. The orc crowed with satisfaction and went in for the killing blow. But suddenly a strange look came over Thorin's face, as a fire seemed to flow back through his veins. Raising his sword he gave out a thunderous battle cry, and charged at his enemy.

"Baruk Khazad!"

And with that he met the Orc in mid charge, caught the blow on Orcrist and skillfully turning the side of his sword met the Orc's chest with deadly results. The eyes of the fatally wounded creature widened, as if he did not believe this had truly happened. But placing a hand to it's chest only confirmed what he did not believe, and with a shudder he fell back onto the carpet of leaves, dead.

Bilbo, to say the least, had never witnessed a battle of this brutality in his entire life. Needless to say he was quite shocked. Thorin stood looking at the body for a moment with hard, his lungs greedily taking in the air that they cried out for. Looking disgusted he turned from it and made his way towards Bilbo.

"Bilbo...are you...injured?" Thorin managed out, weary from battle and yet knowing that they could not linger long.

Thorin looked quite frightful, with a cut forehead and a split lip he looked every bit of the 'mad dwarves' that the people back in Hobbiton would tell fabulous and warning tales about. It was considered very bad indeed for Shire folk to mix with Dwarves more than was necessary. Although they welcomed the trade and goods the Dwarves had to offer, they were very careful to stick to pure business.

"No. I'm not" Bilbo answered, determined not to be a burden, and to save what was left of his pride. Thorin nodded wordlessly, frame still heaving from the encounter. A trickle of blood leaked down the Dwarf's side where the orc dagger had bitten in leaving an ugly gash; Thorin's sharp eyes caught Bilbo staring at it.

A bit hastily he answered the Hobbit's unspoken question, "It is but a scratch. Bound it will give no more trouble." Thorin seemed as if he wished it would go unnoticed from the Hobbit's keen eyesight, and kept glancing at the Hobbit as if to make sure he was not looking.

"We cannot stay here Bilbo." he continued, changing the subject. "Come. The other orcs will not be far behind."

He motioned to Bilbo as he stepped forward quickly scanning the area for, but looked back when the Hobbit did not come immediately. Bilbo sighed inwardly and struggled to stand up but let out a cry as he fell back to the ground, his foot screaming in protest and sending waves of pain up his leg.

When the Hobbit had not come immediately, Thorin thought something was off, and the fact that Bilbo had now fallen to the ground only confirmed this. Thorin, fearing that perhaps the Hobbit had indeed been injured by the Orc went quickly to the Hobbit, kneeling in the leaves beside him.

With eyes full of concern he worriedly asked, "Bilbo? Where are you injured?"

Doing his very best to keep the pain from coming through into his voice the Hobbit pointed to the lower extremity of his leg saying, "My foot." The said woolly foot had now grown in size and appeared a discolored purple.

Pulling off his gloves Thorin carefully felt the injured member, the experience he had in healing while not truly wondrous, would at least suffice in lesser ills. In a relieved voice he said, "I can feel no broken bones."

The Hobbit muttered to himself something about making a mess of it all and glared at the foot as if wishing it to forget the injury it had suffered.

"There will be no walking on it." Thorin said out loud, mostly to himself.

Bilbo knew that Thorin was right, and the Orcs could not be far behind. The situation was far from good, and even farther from being the best. In fact it looked downright hopeless. Moreover it appeared that Thorin was either thinking deeply or was at a loss for what to say, and Bilbo could only think that he was thinking the exact same thoughts. It had been incredibly clumsy of Bilbo to injure himself in such a manner at such a time, Bilbo let out a deep sigh and then made a decision. He wasn't going to be a burden, it was his own fault he had been injured. Thorin had done his best to save him, but things had still turned out badly.

Mustering his courage he said in a small voice, "You'll have to leave me behind then I suppose."

The pure look of bewilderment on Thorin's face was almost comical, "What?!" The Dwarf clearly had not understood him. Annoyed, Bilbo repeated his statement. Thorin stared.

"What in the name of Durin do you mean Hobbit?!" The Dwarf sharply demanded. Was the creature delirious?

Bilbo, extremely vexed that anyone could appear so dense at such a time rephrased his statement. "You'll have to leave me behind! Do you understand? I can't walk, I'll slow you down, and likely get you killed!" He nearly shouted to drive his point into this thick headed Dwarf.

Thorin blinked and looked at the Hobbit in disbelief. "No! A thousand times no! What are you thinking Hobbit?! Leave you behind?! Madness!"

"No no no no! Stop that. You know what I mean, and I'm right. You have to leave me behind" The Hobbit shook his finger in a fidgety manner, indicating his deep disapproval.

Thorin was silent, but his eyes had a strange look to them. He looked as if he was reading the Hobbit's face and not believing whatever it was he found there. Bilbo looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Well?!" Bilbo demanded. The Dwarf was making this all very difficult.

The Dwarf seemed to be searching desperately for something to say, and with a very serious look then recited somewhat slowly, "Mr. Baggins...While I greatly respect your courage in this matter..."

Bilbo was shocked. Thorin had actually found something to respect in him?!

"I cannot honor your... request...due to...due to..." Once again he seemed lost waving his hand aimlessly.

Bilbo raised his eyebrow, Thorin unable to find words? Curious indeed.

"Custom!" Thorin shot out, "Yes...Dwarven custom."

"Custom?" Bilbo asked, looking as unconvinced as possible. He would not let on, but he found this slightly amusing, seeing Thorin fumble so awkwardly in his speech.

"Yes." Thorin answered, "We Dwarves do not leave each other to death and danger. It is a matter of honor, no one if left behind".

Bilbo half smirked as he said, "Doesn't that just apply to Dwarves?"

Thorin coughed.


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: SEE PREVIOUS CHAPTAHS DANKE. **

**Here's another bit. Hope you all enjoy! Read and comment please! ;)**

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"Well?" Bilbo prodded. "All I heard was Dwarves, and Hobbits don't really fall under that category."

"Yes, well, I meant to include...comrades... as well...We dwarves, do not leave each other or our comrades to death and danger, was what I meant to say you see." Thorin looked a bit uncomfortable, but perhaps he thought it necessary to convince the Halfling as he continued.

"Also, I believe the contract does cover that injuries and such as well...and as leader of our company it is my duty to see that you are safe and well to the best of my ability." Thorin continued, his voice droning on about how he was justified in not leaving the Hobbit.

Bilbo sighed, he did not think the contract was exactly along those lines, but had given up arguing about it long ago. Well this was a mess. The Dwarf would not leave.

"Bother contracts and your customs!" He said out loud.

"I beg your pardon?" Thorin demanded.

Bilbo, ignoring him continued, "It's a foolish idea. Go! You'll only get killed if you stay around here." He waved his hand off in the desired direction of Thorin's departure. The Dwarf merely glanced where Bilbo waved and looked back at Bilbo with a frown.

Thorin looked deeply offended and gruffly replied, "I have no intention of staying in this particular spot, but I also have no intention of leaving you here to fulfill your fantasies. _Burglar._ "

Bilbo scowled back, "Even if I did change my mind," he reasoned, "there is no possible way I could keep up. We'd be captured before we'd gone a day's journey."

"I am not leaving you here Halfling." Thorin said with that tone he usually took with his disobedient nephews, frowning even more if it was possible.

"I can't walk." Bilbo said, returning the fierce looks, "You see? That's the weak part of your plan isn't it? I can't walk, not with this." he gestured at his foot. Thorin looked as if he was about to say something, but Bilbo being much too irritated interrupted him, "It's altogether idiotic, Gandalf would agree. Besides, you're the leader of the company, and your men need you." Bilbo crossed his arms in a manner indicating that he would not move.

Thorin's eye softened at this, "Bilbo Baggins. The company has need of it's burglar too. You are a brave fellow, but this is all unnecessary. There is yet a chance to rejoin the company."

"How?" Bilbo asked, perplexed and altogether unhappy with this situation.

"I will carry you." Thorin stated bluntly.

"No!" Bilbo squeaked in dismay.

Thorin's face took on a look of expectancy until the Hobbit explained himself.

"You can't!" Bilbo protested, "You're wounded. I'm heavy; I'll slow you down even more! You can't possibly carry me the entire way!"

"Mr. Baggins," Thorin said with care, "I am not just an heir or craftsman. Many good years before you were born, I was trained as a soldier."

"I don't see what that has to do with it. You need to leave me." Bilbo interjected with an urgent tone.

Thorin could not help but smile. This Hobbit indeed knew little of other people it was true, but there was a courage within him that was simply difficult to find or even impossible.

"Dwarven soldiers carry many times their own weight for great and long distances. As much as is required, so that our reputation is well known among the different lands and peoples." Thorin continued, "You" he said slowly, "are a burden that I would be honored to bear. Do you not remember? I owe you my life. I will not forget such a service."

"But you're wounded!" Bilbo still protested.

"It is but a scratch. Truly, it appears worse than it is." The wound was now a dull throbbing in his side, but Thorin ignored it. There were more important things, and it was after all but a small scratch. The Hobbit depended on him, and while he was able he would see to his safety.

Bilbo looked as if he was wavering, and with a sigh he seemed to give in. "Oh very well! I have a feeling I am going to regret this."

"You would regret more staying behind, I think." Thorin smirked.

Bilbo rolled his eyes.

"Wait." Bilbo halted the Dwarf, who looked puzzled at this new hesitation.

"If I allow you to carry me, then I cook, and have first watch." Bilbo smirked back, and Thorin did not seem pleased at all with this proposition.

"You can't very well do everything," Bilbo continued to address the now scowling Dwarf, "Either I shall become incredibly bored or you shall grow too weary to can't cook very well either."

"I doubt that exceedingly Mr. Baggins." Thorin said with an air of dignity. "You underestimate me."

"Perhaps." said Bilbo, "But they say better safe than sorry."

"I assure you Mr. Baggins," Thorin growled, "That my cooking would not poison you. On the contrary, you might appreciate it if you but tried it."

"Debatable." Bilbo answered and before the Dwarf could protest, "Well? What do you say? It's a fair trade off I think."

Thorin paused, as if weighing this statement. It was true, he in no way wished to relinquish his right of watch or the cooking, but the Hobbit did have a point.

Finally narrowing his eyes he said, "Very well Mr. Baggins."

"Good good!" Bilbo seemed suddenly very pleased,. Almost too pleased Thorin mused to himself.

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Bilbo had now decided upon one thing. He did not enjoy Dwarf transportation. To say the least it was uncomfortable, and although he supposed Thorin was doing as best a job as he might given the circumstances, Bilbo was not pleased.

Indeed, with Thorin carrying him on his back for what seemed hours now, he felt more of a burden than ever. Why oh why had he agreed to this? Even now he felt the heavy breath of Thorin as the dwarf shouldered the Hobbit into a more comfortable position.

Thorin, on the other hand was not the happiest either. Part of him questioned the wisdom in carrying the Halfling so great a distance, the other half told the first to hold its tongue and reminded him of honor and duty. But oddly enough, the Hobbit did feel heavier than he had earlier.  
His frame heaved with the internal rhythm he had set for himself, now taking comfort in the fact that the Hobbit had first watch. He was now looking forward to a deep sleep.

Oh well, he reasoned. It was not all bad, they had covered a great deal of land in the time he had carried the Hobbit. The Hobbit was still alive, and that was a good bit of luck considering the previous events. That and Thorin wasn't terribly tired, he could travel many more miles yet, he could feel it.

"I'm not too heavy am I?" The Hobbit seemed a little worried on this point.

"No...You are not." Thorin answered taking a deep breath; still in full run and hoping the Hobbit would not talk much. Running with a load and talking were tricky things, and did not mix well. This he had found from experience as a young lad, back when chattering madly was one of his many occupations.

He hissed as angry barbs of pain crawled up his ribcage, stumbling slightly to one side as the unexpected waves washed through him. The pain had steadily been getting worse, with sharp attacks at various intervals.

"Are you alright?" Came the Hobbit's voice full of concern. Bilbo felt that everything was not quite as it should be.

"Yes!...Fine!..." Thorin shot back with a good deal of annoyance and breathing heavily. It was just a scratch. He was fine. He couldn't stop now anyway. Orcs too close. He was a Dwarf. He could wait, he would endure until they had gotten farther away. He must endure.

He started harder, with more determination. He would not allow a mere Orc scratch to be his undoing. He was strong, he could wait.

Bilbo seemed very anxious indeed, and the last display had done nothing to convince him of any normality.

"I...I think we should rest." The Halfling ventured.

"No...Too close." Thorin breathed heavily.

Suddenly, the dull throbbing in his side grew with a lightening power and speed, sending shockwaves through Thorin's body. He cursed as his nerves protested.

He stopped "Have to...put...you down...for a moment..." he gasped out to Bilbo, as blood trickled from the wound down his side, forcing him to his knees.

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"Kili! Get out of my light!" Gandalf shouted angrily.

The Dwarf, startled by the sudden outburst, leapt out of the wizard's way.

They had finally found a trail and had followed it for some miles, past a riverbed and into some woods. But what Gandalf saw now disturbed him, he knelt gazing at the trail with brow furrowed. Fili, seeing the interest took a closer look, and within moments his sharp eyes had taken in what the wizard's had.

The brush and twigs had been broken, as if someone had run at a great speed. There were Hobbit tracks, Orc, and the heavy boot of what they guessed to be Thorin Oakenshield, but all mixed and unreadable.

Kili sighed, "Have you got it yet? Which way?"

Gandalf growled in a most foreboding manner, but other then that ignored the young dwarf, who taking the hint left to find what he could.

After a moment Fili straightened, "They were here, that is clear enough. But where did they go? All the tracks are muddled."

"Yes." Gandalf said slowly, "and I am no woodsman, and so I cannot tell."

"So what do we do?" Fili wondered aloud.

Before Gandalf could answer, they heard a shout from Kili. Both wizard and Fili, fearing that Kili might be in some danger sped off in the direction of the voice. Coming into a clearing they found him quite sitting quite smugly on a rock.

"Ah. There you two are! Took you long enough to come here I see." He smirked cheekily.

Gandalf, replied and angry scowl, "Of all dwarves I have met Kili, you are the worst. I wish to the Valar I had never taken you along! So far all you have been is trouble!"

"Now now Gandalf!" Kili looked offended, "Don't want to go making such wishes. Especially while you two were staring at the dirt I actually found something." Kili was unable to keep the pleasure from his face.

"Well?!" Fili asked with some exasperation.

Jumping off the rock Kili bowed, "Gents. If you'll just follow me, I'll take you straight to it."

Both wizard and Fili shared annoyed looks with one another as they followed the dark haired archer through the tall trees.


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: VONCE AGAIN, SEE PREVIOUS CHAPTAHS. DANKE. **

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"Thorin?! Thorin?!"

Bilbo could see the form of the Dwarf, bent over and breathing heavily as if in pain. This was far from being good. He should have convinced the foolish Dwarf to leave him!

"Are you alright?!" he asked more urgently.

The Dwarf answered, still managing to growl despite his discomfort. "I am...quite alright!" he snapped angrily. Cursing under his breath, Thorin lifted the palm of his hand ever so slightly away from his body, but Bilbo could still see the bright red covering it.

The Dwarf tore a piece of cloth from his cloak, applying direct pressure to his wound.

"You're not!" Bilbo protested.

"Perfectly fine! I just need to rest for a moment." Thorin answered with an edge. The Hobbit was indeed the most bothersome creature he had ever met. What did he expect Thorin to do? To stop and allow for certain death from the creatures that pursued them? Going on was the only option. He could last long enough.

"You can't...this is stupid!" The Hobbit started.

With a snarl, caused by his pain and annoyance, Thorin turned at the Hobbit.

"And what would you have me do?!" He shouted. "Stay here and await our _friends_ with open arms?! Oh of course, it would be so wonderful to catch up on old times!" He spat out the word "friends" as if it was distasteful to him. Thorin shook his head and turned away from Bilbo, attending to himself once more.

The Hobbit had been effectively silenced by this, but Thorin's heart suddenly felt heavy with guilt for having spoken so harshly. Sighing and giving in he coughed. "Bilbo-" he began, but was interrupted by an angry Halfling.

"No no! I understand completely!" The Hobbit yelled back. "It's not the Orcs over there, but your pride and arrogance that will kill the both of us!"

"Foolish Hobbit!" Thorin shot back, eyes flashing with anger, "You know nothing! Nothing! Would that I had never promised Gandalf to bring your miserable hide!"

"Oh!" Bilbo was getting even more excited, "It's back to that is it?! You think that I wanted a part in this foolish venture that is sure to end in ruin?!"

Thorin looked furious, "I would kill you Hobbit. If you but knew how to handle a sword. End in ruin?! Yes! There never was much hope! But with you there is less! You are but a burden for the others to carry!"

Bilbo looked as if he could not believe what he was hearing, after all that had happened, but suddenly threw his hands up. Grabbing up a stick from the leaves he rose as best as he was able. He did not look back as he began limping slowly away. The pain in his foot shot up his leg again, but grinding his teeth he bravely plodded forward.

"Where do you think you're going Halfling?!" Thorin shouted.

"Away! I'm done with you and your company Thorin Oakenshield!" The Hobbit answered without turning his head.

He heard the Dwarf scoff, "You'll be dead come sundown. I'd bet a pretty penny on that!"

Bilbo ignored him. Head held high with nose in the air, leaving with what dignity remained to him.

Thorin shook his head. Good riddance. He was tired of playing nursemaid. The Hobbit did not desire his company. Fine then, no where in the contract was it stated that members could not leave if they wished. So be it.

But then he thought of the promise he had made earlier...He promised himself he would see the Hobbit safe...If Bilbo left then he would die. It would be on Thorin's head if this did indeed come to pass. Bilbo knew nothing of direction, lands, peoples, and as far as Thorin knew hadn't even any money at all. Not even mentioning his atrocious sword skills.

With a curse to the sky Thorin grabbed up the supplies attempting not to double over with the fiery fingers that danced all along his side, and hobbled after the hopeless Hobbit shouting.

"Bilbo! Wait!"

He was just in time to see the Hobbit fall again, groaning as his foot refused to work properly.

"Fool." the Dwarf muttered.

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"Here we are! Perhaps you'll show some gratitude, although I doubt it." Kili led the Grey clad wizard and his brother into a part of the forest that was eerily silent and smelled of death. A crow upon seeing them leapt into the air, cackling with it's throaty voice. With a certain cockiness in his walk Kili waved his hand, proudly presenting to the wizard an Orc body.

Fili and Gandalf both gave the youngster a disgusted look.

"And how," The wizard began, trying to keep his growing annoyance under check, "Is this supposed to be news of a good nature? I see it as the exact opposite."

"A dead orc's always good news!" Kili grinned, "Anyhow, it's clear that Uncle killed it."

Fili during this time had been wearing a deep frown strangely like the one Thorin wore when displeased. This last quip however, added to the Dwarf's growing anxiety as to the whereabouts of his uncle, was too much.

Striding to his younger brother's side with great purpose and fierce countenance, he gave Kili a sound blow to the back of his head.

Gandalf nodded in approvement, but his eyes quickly left the Dwarves and their disagreement to look more closely at the gory scene.

"Ow!" Kili yelped, attempting to fend off his older brother with his hands. "Get off will you?!"

"You'll speak with more respect towards your elders Kili!" Fili barked, landing him a last smack for good measure.

Kili rubbed the back of his head, scowling at Fili. "You-" he began

"Will you two be quiet!?" The Wizard hissed, silencing both Dwarves immediately.

This order however proved to be no obstacle for the brother's quarrel, as they fell to arguing and berating one another in Dwarven sign language. Gandalf ignored them as best as he could, gazing at the Orc.

It had indeed suffered numerous wounds that appeared to be caused by a sword, but then again nearly every intelligent traveler made sure to never leave home without one. The consequences of being caught on the road unguarded were not fancied by many.

The upturned earth and scattered leaves paid witness to a hard struggle, showing that whoever had fought this fight, had won a hard battle. The Orc was tall, with a scar across it's still leering face. He was much more muscular than common orc, clearly a soldier, and Gandalf could not help but wonder where it had come from. The crow still jeered at them in his croaking voice, as if knowing what they sought and laughing at their attempts.

"Now why are you so far from home I wonder..." the wizard whispered to himself. His thoughts on the matter however, were quickly interrupted, as Fili somehow insulted his brother using the Dwarvish sign language.

"You!" Kili shouted, leaping at Fili and knocking the both of them over and rolling into the leaves. The brothers scuffled, laying heavy blows to one another and shrieking offensive Dwarven expressions. The noise of their struggle echoed throughout the forest. Gandalf stiffened at the sounds.

That was the last straw.

"FILI AND KILI! IF YOU DO NOT CEASE IMMEDIATELY, I SHALL TURN YOU INTO THE VERY ROCKS FROM WHENCE YOUR FATHERS CAME!" Gandalf seemed to grow enormously in height and appeared very intimidating. His very frame seeming to stretch far beyond what was normal,, the sun growing dim behind him. The wizard's impressive voice becoming as deep as the Earth itself, laden with threat that he would carry through if pressed. The Earth rumbled angrily from within its core, as if to back the wizard up on this matter.

The Dwarves ceased their fight immediately, and were quite cowed by this display. They stared at Gandalf with wide eyes and mouths agape, so that they appeared quite ridiculous sitting among the leaves and foliage.

Gandalf however was not softened by the youngster's fear, and scowled a deep and terrible scowl. He silently stared at them as they held their breath, and finally turned in triumph back to his work in comfortably quiet surroundings.

A closer inspection of the Orc revealed what Gandalf had suspected. It was odd. Very odd indeed.

"This is no Goblin." The wizard spoke suddenly, causing Fili and Kili to jump.

Fili was the first to speak, still quite nervous of the wizard, "W-what do you mean?"

Kili though curious, said nothing, content to have survived.

"Yes," Gandalf answered, "By all appearances I would say it is a Morannon Orc."

"What is it doing here?" Kili piped up.

"What is it doing here? I haven't the faintest idea. Curious indeed to find one in these parts." The wizard mused to himself, ignoring Fili and Kili's worried looks.

Pushing the annoying foliage out of the way with his staff, Gandalf made his way to the place where Bilbo had fallen. Wrinkling his brow he said slowly, "Someone fell here clearly..."

"A body perhaps?" Kili tried helpfully.

A frown from Gandalf silenced him and ended his attempts to aid the wizard.

Fili bent down and pulled a scrap of cloth from the bush, holding it up for the wizard to see. "Look!" he said.

The wizard snatched it from Fili hand, as Kili glowered at Fili, who in turn made a Dwarven hand signal at Kili. This caused Kili to shake his fist at his brother from safely behind the wizard.

"I would say this is a Hobbit's waistcoat!" Gandalf exclaimed. "Good work Fili! So, we now know that they were here."

The wizard turned sharply, and the Dwarves dropped their argument and sprang to attention. Luckily for them, the wizard seemed to have taken no notice.

"Come! This way!" Gandalf sprung quickly in the direction Thorin and Bilbo had gone with agility quite surprising for one his age, leaving the two Dwarves to follow as best as they may.

The crow laughed insanely with his harsh cry echoing through the forest like a bad omen, as the Dwarves and their wizard raced against time to find their comrades.


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: SAME AS BEFORE, SEE FIRST CHAPTAH. **

**Well, here's chapter 8! Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for all the kind words! I lurv your comments! You guys are awesome. :)**

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"Bilbo! Wait!"

Bilbo heard the Dwarf call his name, an amazing feat in itself considering that Thorin usually referred to him either as Mr. Baggins or "the Burglar", but ignored him entirely. He walked with head held high with pride, despite the very unimpressive limp he walked with. While Dwarves are said to be as stubborn as the Earth itself, one must remember that Hobbits seem to have received their fair share of said stubbornness. Some might say that it has something to do with the Tookish side in our Mr. Baggins, as the Tooks were always considered queer folk, being thought to have fairy blood. At any rate, Bilbo's stubbornness was taking the Hobbit quickly away from where some, and especially Gandalf, would say that he ought to be.

This is not to say that Bilbo did not think of turning back. He had after all not left Thorin in the best of health, and the Dwarf had been breathing heavily when he left. The fool would certainly kill himself one part of him mused. But you have tried! Indeed, try is all one can do sometimes! The other said.

No. He had had enough. He was washing his hands of the matter. If Thorin wanted to starve or bleed to death that was his choice.

But this decision weighed heavily on the good fellow's heart. True, Thorin was a stubborn fool, but it was no cause to leave him alone. Especially in these woods.

Bilbo shuddered. He didn't quite fancy meeting what Thorin had earlier dubbed as their "friends". The Dwarf, in his condition would more than likely be killed or captured. With a sigh, he almost turned about when he heard a most welcome sound that grew into a smug smile on his face. The sound of someone hastily, and quite noisily, attempting to catch up with him.

"Well, well, well." the Halfling thought. His unimpressive limp took on a distinguishable cocky quality to it, if this is at all possible for one to have with a limp, and he kept on walking. Thorin would have to _ask_ him to come back and _apologize_. Needless to say our Mr. Baggins looked forward to this with what can perhaps be considered a certain fiendish glee.

While he was thinking of his certain victory over the Dwarf Lord, he did not quite pay attention as to where he was stepping. As he placed his foot down he realized only too soon that his foot was falling farther than it ought to have. He had been so busy with his thoughts that he had not realized he had stepped into a ditch, and being unprepared and the terrain loose over he went, face first into the ground.

Bilbo moaned. This grand idea of his to walk out of Thorin's foolish 'adventure' with great dignity had ended with him falling on his face onto the ground. He spat out leaves morosely pondering of how in the world he was going to manage to get anywhere, let alone Home. His foot was not making things easy. Blast his clumsiness! Who ever heard of anyone injuring himself in a fight? Ridiculously absurd. But then again, this entire venture had been ridiculously absurd.

He felt strong hands pull him up from the ground, helping him to his feet. Thorin gave a small grunt as he bent in an unwise position, as his wound expressed deep disapproval. Bilbo gained his own feet and took a step back. Thorin leaned himself against a tree and held his side, but in a moment he turned to Bilbo with dark eyes flashing.

"What did you think you were doing?! Running off like that?!" The Dwarf growled, with deep breaths and angry features.

Bilbo set his jaw firmly and with his best business tone replied, "As I recall, if any member of this company is dissatisfied, he may leave the company at any given time. Such was my decision, and hence my...actions. Yes." Nodding he stared back at the Dwarf awaiting his answer.

Thorin stared for a moment, and then threw his free hand in the air in vexation. "And what, pray tell, have you to be dissatisfied with?!" His face looked as if trying to comprehend the motives of this strange Halfling. Why weren't all creatures like Dwarves?! The world would be a much simpler place!

Bilbo frowned. Thorin was on purposely evading him on this matter. Fine then.

"A great deal!" he turned quickly, limping away once more.

"Bilbo!" Thorin called softly, looking weary, much more weary than Bilbo had ever seen him.  
Bilbo stopped stiffly and without looking at Thorin said in an annoyed tone, "What?"

But turned sharply and rapped out before Thorin could answer, "Oh. And isn't it _MR. Baggins?_ Or better yet! _The Burglar!?_" The Hobbit fairly fumed with pent up frustration, his sharp voice turning to a shout. "I've tried _MR. Oakenshield._ Really, I have! You don't even make an attempt to be friendly at all! But no matter what I do, I'm a burden to you! I'd expect I'd have to kill thousands of monsters to gain any standing in your eyes! So since I am such a burden, it really shouldn't upset you if I choose to relieve you of myself!"

Thorin was taken aback. Remaining silent, the Dwarf mentally called himself fool in thousands of different ways as he saw how ungratefully he had behaved. Bilbo had saved his life! This was how he repaid such deeds? The Hobbit glared, and with a snarl not unlike the Dwarf's made as if to walk on alone into the now growing dark woodlands. It was then that Thorin spoke.

"Bilbo..." he began, "I...I...I did not know that I offended you...I am not well-versed in the customs...and ways of the Shire-Folk, and had no idea that such titles displeased you."

Bilbo was shocked. Thorin coughed, this was painful.

"You are right..and I admit...I have not treated you...as well as I ought to have...I have..wronged you Bilbo. And for that I am truly sorry." There it was out. Thorin shifted uncomfortably and then took a deep breath as the Hobbit simply stared.

"You're actually apologizing?" Bilbo finally blurted out, still not believing what had happened.

Thorin nodded without saying a word, quickly looking away. He hated these, nasty uncomfortable things apologies. But he felt better, knowing he had done the honorable and right thing. Thank the Valar Gandalf was not here, the wizard would be very smug about the entire business. Thorin could not help but think it was the wizard's personal pastime to enjoy watching kings and those of royal blood humbled. Well, luckily for Gandalf Thorin was a grown and mature dwarf. There was a time when such persons that enjoyed these amusements would suffer from Thorin's terrible and devilish pranks of vengeance that would certainly drive the message home. The Dwarves of the Blue Mountains always complained of Fili and Kili's antics, well they should have seen the Prince of Erador's forms of revenge! Perhaps someday he would have a word with Fili and Kili concerning the wizard...

The Hobbit blinked. "Well then...How are we going to go about traveling? I can't walk, well...and well you're not in the best of condition."

"We get along as best as we may." Thorin said resolutely, grimly setting his jaw. He limp to the other side of the tree where some branches grew low. Taking out Orcrist he looked regretful for a moment.

"I am truly loathe to use such a blade for such mean work. But unfortunately it cannot be helped." Stretching himself so that he might reach, he swung Orcrist, the blade biting through the wood with impressive results. Within a few moments he had cut a stout staff for both himself and Bilbo. The moment he had finished he leaned against the tree, eyes closed with a pained expression on his face.

"Are you alright?" Bilbo narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, yes." The Dwarf replied hastily. Too hastily.

"Thorin..."Bilbo prodded. The Dwarf was obviously not telling the truth.

"You nor I are healers. But what does it matter? I am alive, and that is enough is it not?" Thorin gave a weary smile as if trying to convince the Hobbit. It was then that Bilbo noticed Thorin was sweating, but not because of his exertion. The wind was cold yet comfortable, and there was no cause for the Dwarf to have this reaction, that is unless Dwarves had different anatomies then the other peoples of Middle Earth. Bilbo remembered how his cousin had used to fill his head with ridiculous tales, saying that even the hearts of Dwarves rather than being of flesh and blood were in fact of stone.

Bilbo was about to protest when they heard a bird cry out and the forest grow very quiet. Thorin narrowed his eyes, looking into the area behind them. The breathing of both Hobbit and Dwarf seemed like hissing kettles that were boiling over, Thorin took a step forward, straightening his muscular form and ignoring whatever ailed him. With a hand signal he commanded the Hobbit to draw his sword and to follow silently.

They had not gone far forward when Thorin suddenly grabbed Bilbo, pulling him into the cover provided by the ferns and a few useful trees. Putting a finger to his lips he warned Bilbo to make no sound, and carefully inched up to look.

It was an orc, not nearly as impressive as the first, and obviously but a scout. But all the same it posed a dangerous threat to the wounded travelers. Bilbo saw Thorin's battle scarred hands tighten around Orcrist's elegant hilt, knowing that he intended to do battle if necessary. Time seemed to slow as the Orc got nearer, and the sound of it sniffing grew louder. It's discovery of their hiding place was inevitable.

Bilbo's heart crawled to the back of his throat, beating for all it was worth.

Thorin began to move closer to the unsuspecting enemy, and Bilbo made as if to follow. Thorin, noticing the Hobbit following with sword drawn and grim face smiled sadly as if remembering some fond memory, but then shook his head. Bilbo looked confused and looked as if he was about to ask Thorin to explain, but Thorin held a hand up in a commanding manner, and with surprising stealth for a Dwarf inched his way closer to the Scout.

Bilbo crawled to a better viewing place. He could see Thorin approaching the orc, but clearly he wasn't able to ignore his protesting body completely, and sadly it could be easily seen.

An annoying gnat began flying about his face, tickling his ears and nose. Shaking his head viciously and swatting at it with his hand in an attempt to discourage it from it's decided goal. It then flew up to his eye, causing him to blink. When the light returned to his eye once more he gasped. Thorin was still there, looking very confused, but the orc had disappeared entirely!

Looking around, fearing that it might even be behind him he held Sting firmly. Hearing an inhuman screech followed by a roar from Thorin and a clang. He turned quickly to see that the orc had pounced on the unsuspecting Dwarf, with Thorin now on his back with a knife to his throat.

Bilbo frantically glanced about, hoping that someone might be there to help yet knowing there would be no one.

"What to do?! What to do!?" He thought with a panicking sense of urgency. Thorin was about to be killed, and he had no idea what to do.

He couldn't run and help Thorin, regardless of his foot the orc would kill the Dwarf instantly. He was no warrior, and had little if any experience with these foul creatures. He had to do something, he knew it. There was no way around it. With a gulp, Bilbo crawled as close as he could to the scene without being spotted. Heart jumping every time he heard a leaf crunch or twig snap.

As he came closer he heard the orc speaking, taking a look his heart stopped. If he did not act now, Thorin would come to a most horrible and tragic end, and all in defense of Bilbo.

"sneak up on me Beardling? I don't think so." it snarled, stretching it mottled skin across it's face into a grin,. Throwing the orcblade into the air and catching it expertly, the orc pinned the Dwarf's neck down with it's merciless iron clawed hand, and licked the twisted black blade with a malicious gleam in his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: SAME AS BEFORE, SEE EARLIER CHAPTAHS. DANKE. **

**Here's Chapter 9! Sorry for taking so long to upload it. Hope you all enjoy! Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews! They really bring a smile to my face :)**

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Bilbo made his silent way as close as he dared, Thorin's fate hanging in the balance of what action he now took or did not take. The very thought was enough to make his legs shake with nervousness, knowing the orc could easily find him, ending with very unpleasant results for both himself and the unfortunate Dwarf. What was Bilbo even doing here? He was no warrior. How in the world was he going to stop the inevitable?

Placing his foot down, he inwardly winced as he snapped a twig. Perhaps it was his anxiety, or just ill luck, but the sound came very loud and audible indeed. The Orc looked up with a start, sniffing suspiciously. Taking Thorin by his neck he growled into the Dwarf's face.

"Are there anymore of your kind skulking about?" It's eyes narrowed, as if in readiness to read the Dwarf's response. However, he would be disappointed if he had hoped for civility, as the Dwarf growled back in defiance.

"I was just about to ask the same of you Scum."

The orc seemed amused by this show of open resistance, and answered back in obvious pleasure.

"Well, well, well. I was going to make it easy on you, but I guess not now eh? I'll keep all the fun to myself, why share anyway?" Leaning closer and hissing, "Maggot. I can smell your friend, and his fear. When I finish bleeding you, I'll find the runt and gut him" This however, some might say was a mistake to say, as by nature Dwarves do not give in to fate or threatening easily. This was Thorin's nature. His face full of rage, he suddenly twisted and with a violent motion he was able to land a sharp blow against the Orc, knocking his assailant to the ground.

Scrambling up, he glanced wildly about for his sword Orcrist, and saw it gleaming brightly among the dull leaves. The servant of Sauron had wanted nothing to do with it, as it was bound with bane for him and his kind.

Upon seeing the ancient blade, Thorin made a dash across the leaves, but the Orc rose with rageful countenance. Shrieking, he ran at Thorin with weapon drawn, and Bilbo saw that he would easily have Thorin before the Dwarf could make it to his sword.

Bilbo looked towards the ground and was about to close his eyes, not wanting to see what he thought was sure to follow, the death of a noble warrior. But once again fate intervened, as his foot slid among more than the usual leaves and twigs. It was cold and round, plain and ordinary, but that at that moment seemed to shine like a sign from above.

Bilbo grasped it within his hand, feeling the good weight of it and the perfect way that it fit into his hand, as if it was made for this moment. With a deep breath he stood up noisily from his hiding place, in full view and turning towards the creature. Upon seeing the Hobbit, Thorin's face took on for the first time a look of fear and shouted something frantically that the Hobbit could not understand. Time seemed to slow, as the Orc saw the Hobbit, eyes widening as he saw what was happening. It immediately changed its course, as did Thorin, now giving chase instead of being chased. But Bilbo's reflexes were too quick, with a strong pull of his arm he launched the stone with deadly accuracy.

A sickening crack sounded throughout the forest as it smacked into the Orc's skull. Eyes still wide, it fell back into the leaves, and moved no more.

Thorin stopped in mid-run, stumbling with exhaustion, he stood there for a moment catching his breath. Looking at the ugly remains of the orc and then back at the Hobbit, he questioned Bilbo between gulps of air.

"Where...Where did you learn to throw a stone like that?!"

Bilbo had his hands in his pockets and save for his torn jacket looked every bit the gentleman of Bag End, he then shrugged.

"A childhood pastime I suppose. Comes in handy now."

"You realize you might have been killed?" Thorin looked as if he disapproved.

Bilbo tightened his lips and answered, "Yes. And I might have been killed a dozen other times. If I hadn't taken any action, it's likely you would have been killed." He stood there, waiting for the Dwarf to start another argument, but instead Thorin merely looked at the orc and back to Bilbo. Looking at the Orc once more he did not turn back to the Hobbit, but merely stood there staring. Bilbo noticed the Dwarf's shoulders appeared hunched.

Bilbo gave a shout and most unceremoniously stumbled to Thorin's side, fearing that the Dwarf's wound was taking it's toll. What he found there however surprised him; he saw that Thorin's shoulders were shaking silently.

Then Thorin did something Bilbo had never seen him do. He laughed.

Turning to Bilbo with a grin Thorin slapped Bilbo heartily on the back, nearly knocking the poor fellow off balance and sending him tumbling into the leaves.

"Well I never!" he chuckled, "Slew an Orc with a stone!"

Bilbo looked slightly annoyed, "Look here, it isn't as if killing anyone with a stone is impossible. I would have used my sword, but as it is I am not very able on my feet."

"I believe you." Thorin replied, the mirth still in his eyes, "Nor am I complaining about the method you chose to use, as I am alive and a stone seems better suited for you then sword." The Dwarf picked up his weapon and sheathing it, and then began making his way as best as he could in a northward direction.

"Are you insinuating that I am unable to handle a sword properly?!" The Hobbit suddenly squeaked, growing very defensive and limping furiously after him.

"Oh no. Nothing of that sort." Thorin evaded, not stopping as Bilbo hobbled up beside him.

"Look! If you've got something to say, speak plainly!" The Hobbit was not in the mood for games.  
Thorin was silent for a moment, as if weighing Bilbo's request and the proper choice of words.

"Very well," the Dwarf answered slowly, "I could not help but notice, the ease in which you wielded your..." he seemed to search for a fitting word here, "Weapon of choice. I would guess you have some years of experience in this matter."

"You guess rightly." Bilbo answered.

Thorin nodded and went on, "Your sword skills on the other hand..."

"Yes, yes I know! They're terrible." Bilbo sharply interrupted.

"Well, I would not put it that strongly... Doubtless, they require some aid." The Dwarf mused.

"It's not as if I've ever had any lessons." The Hobbit glumly answered.

Thorin looked at the Hobbit a moment, as he thought about what Bilbo had said. Perhaps if they survived this he should take some time...

"That should be mended. Perhaps I shall see to it." The Dwarf replied.

"What?" Bilbo looked as if he did not believe what he heard, "You-you mean you'll teach me?" The Hobbit asked, guessing the Dwarf's intentions, seeming genuinely pleased by the idea. The thought of finally being able to use his sword well excited him. Thorin smiled to himself at the Hobbit's enthusiasm.

"Perhaps." was all that the Dwarf answered with some amusement.

Both Hobbit and Dwarf fell silent, making their painful way to where Thorin thought, or rather hoped, they might meet with the rest of the company. It was also Thorin's hope that the Orcs would not dare to leave this particular forest, thinking that once beyond its boundaries they might rejoin the others safely. It was finally Bilbo who broke the silence.

"When I return to Bag End," he began. "I think I shall be only too happy to sit down again to a nice Hobbit meal."

Thorin did not demand the Hobbit's silence this time, perhaps it was because he was grateful for having his life saved, or perhaps it was because he too missed his home. Hearing another speak perhaps filled him with thought and desire of it, which in turn gave him stronger will to continue.

"Surely that is not all." The Dwarf encouraged the Hobbit.

Bilbo was surprised, but sensing the Dwarf's goodwill continued, "No. Not all. I think I shall drink a good pint of ale as well! Probably more!" He laughed at this, because he truly desired an ale at the moment, and did not wholly trust himself either.

To his even further surprise Thorin laughed as well. "And?" The Dwarf verbally prodded, "Is that all? Will you not walk all the ways you knew? Explore once again every secret place discovered in childhood? Run your hands over every object, no matter how insignificant? Visit all the places that are imprinted on your mind so well, that you can almost see them now?" At the end of this tirade of questioning, Thorin seemed to have a faraway look in his eyes, as if pondering his own home. Lost to him so long ago.

"Yes..." The Hobbit answered slowly, "You seemed to almost read my mind. How did you know that?"

The Dwarf was silent for a moment, and answered quietly, "It seems only natural."

Bilbo then decided that it might be wise to change the subject.

"So-um...How did your cooking turn out?"

The Dwarf looked confused for a moment. "Cooking?" he said.

"Yes, the one yesterday, you know, the one that was all wrong." Bilbo winced as he found himself adding the last part. He did not want another argument.

"Oh." The Dwarf seemed to then understand, "That. I didn't get a chance to find out. I expect it's burned to ashes by now."

Bilbo sighed in relief, at least Thorin had not paid any heed to what he had said, "Oh, pity."

But it did not seem that luck was with the Hobbit in this matter, for it seemed that Thorin had indeed heard the unwisely added remark. The Dwarf eyed the Hobbit for a moment and then replied quite firmly.

"It would have turned out well you know, if you had just given it a chance."

Bilbo nodded, pretending to agree. "I know, I know." he said.

But Thorin had still not been appeased, he still felt the need to prove to this Hobbit that the meal would have turned out quite well. It wasn't exactly his fault that the Hobbit had then decided to go down to the stream. If he had not got Thorin so flustered, he doubted he would have allowed Bilbo to go. Thorin mentally made a note to use the same recipe at the next available moment, he would show this Halfling.

"It still would have; I learned it as a Dwarf lad from my Grandmother, and-"  
"Grandmother knows best" Both the Dwarf and Hobbit were surprised to find they had said the same thing at the same time. Bilbo's eyes were wider than usual. How did Dwarves know old Hobbit sayings? This was indeed odd. Thorin also seemed surprised, but then laughed. It must have been laughter of a contagious sort, because within a few moment Bilbo was laughing as well.

The two limping travelers traveled thus in friendly conversation with one another for many hours. Any casual observer would think it indeed odd. A Dwarf and a Hobbit? Dwarves were strange creatures enough, but from what was said Hobbits wanted little enough to do with traveling of any sort. Most even dreaded a short walk from their Hobbit Hole to the local Pub, taking much food in order to sustain themselves in this terrible exertion.

Dwarves were said to be friendly to none but themselves, taking care that their relations with those of the outside world were kept strictly to a business level. Both peoples kept good distance between themselves and the rest of Middle Earth, but yet here they were.

Bilbo would later write in his memoirs, saying that the afternoon was possibly one of the most enjoyable on that journey, laying aside the fact of his painful foot.

The sun had just begun to sink, clinging to the last of the day with its soft rays, when a sixth sense began to play up in Bilbo. He stopped to listen. Thorin, noticing the lack of movement beside him stopped as well, looking at Bilbo expectantly.

"There will be time enough to admire the scenery Bilbo. Come. We cannot linger."

"No. Wait. Do you hear that?" Bilbo looked puzzled, something was off.

The Dwarf visibly sighed, "No." he said. "I hear nothing."

"Shhh!" Bilbo hissed, motioning for silence from Thorin, who was quite shocked. As he had never been told by anyone, and much less a hobbit, to be quiet for a good many years. Thorin looked as if he was about to retort something to the Hobbit, when a great noise burst the silence around them.

A great horn sounded, and was accompanied by many harsh cries, undoubtedly from a great many Orcs. Both Dwarf and Hobbit jumped at its sound clawing its way into the peace that had been in the woods. Bilbo already knew what was tumbling off of Thorin's lips before it came.

"Run!" the Dwarf shouted, preparing himself to make a last desperate dash.

"I can't! You'll have to leave me behind Thorin! Now, or you'll never make it! I'll hold them off!" Bilbo shouted back, drawing his own sword bravely. He knew there was no way in Arda he would be able to do more than a hobble, and then it would be but a game to their pursuers. At least this way Thorin had a chance.

The Dwarf stared at Bilbo with a strange look in his eyes. Was it sorrow? Respect? Anger? Or a mixture of all three? Bilbo could not tell, but he suspected there was a good deal of frustration as well.

"Bilbo Baggins. In my entire life, I have left no one, no one, to a fate ending in death. This I have not done, and I will never do!" Thorin eyes flashed with a determinedness that Bilbo had not seen before. He knew that there would be no swaying the Dwarf, but he had to try.

"We've been over this before! Go!" Bilbo waved his hand frantically, the Orcs would soon be in view, then there would be no chance at all to escape.

"No!" Thorin shouted, "We both escape together, or not at all!"

"I can't run!" the Hobbit protested.

"On my back then with you!" The Dwarf then swooped Bilbo up before the Halfling could object, and started at a great speed away from the impending danger, which was growing louder as they came closer.

"You'll never make it!" Bilbo voice came full of concern and uneasiness, as he noticed the Dwarf's irregular breathing. The wound had not healed, and Thorin was still weary.

"Then," Thorin replied gravely, "Let us both hope and pray that I do, for both our sakes."


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER: SAME AS BEFWORE LOOKIE AT OLDER CHAPTAHS. DANKE. **

**Well here you are! Another chapter, with Gandalf, Fili, and Kili as requested. Thanks again for all your lovely comments and enthusiasm for this wee tale! :) Enjoy!**

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Kili growled to himself. Gandalf had said that he was immature! Him immature?! Him! Well of course his boredom was making him a little wild, it was only natural after all. He was a warrior, not a ranger.

Did the wizard have anything to say about Fili's conduct? No! Of course not. Now Kili would admit that it was true, he had started this round of wild play. This had only ended with the Dwarves bumping hard into the wizard and nearly knocking him over, much to the Gandalf's displeasure. But then again what did the Gandalf expect? Dwarves amuse themselves wildly. If the old man did not like it, he could very well go elsewhere, even the Elves if it suited him... That is, after he had helped them find Thorin and Bilbo of course.

With an angry scowl the Dwarf whipped the brush out of his view mercilessly with the dark bow he held. He would show that nosy wizard. He would find the trail that Gandalf and Fili had lost. He would be the one to save this rescue attempt. With a smirk Kili imagined Gandalf congratulating the dwarf lad on his sharp eyesight and quick thinking. This would be simple, almost too simple, if he could only find the trail.

The grass grew lush and green, with its thick stalks stretching upwards in order to embrace the sun rays. There was a chill in the air, but not at all an uncomfortable one. Kili rather enjoyed feeling its prick against his skin. Gandalf had been grumbling about it and something about "foolish dwarves", but Kili had decided to let it pass, for the moment. He could easily have revenge later.

Taking a step backwards in order to widen his view, he felt himself bump into something warm and alive.

With a yelp he turned violently to see what enemy had stalked him only to find his brother Fili having very much the same reaction. Seeing one another the Dwarves ceased their noisy outbursts with wide eyes and still pounding hearts. It was Fili who spoke first.

"Don't ever" he began in a menacing tone, "sneak up on me like that again." He brought his hand to his chest, as if trying to soothe his heart back into it's normal routine.

Kili however immediately took offense at this, "Oi!" his eyes took on a hurt look., "It was you that snuck up on me!"

"I did not! It was you!"

"You did too! I saw you!"

"That's idiotic! I couldn't have snuck up on you if you saw me!"

"Ah! See! You admit it!"

"I did no such thing!"

The bickering was sharply interrupted by a deep voice with a slightly airy quality to it, as a large grey and ominous shadow fell over the irritated siblings.

"Will you two kindly stop sneaking off?! I am hard put to it as it is to just find two, let alone four of the company!" The wizard declared with a good deal of vexation.

Unfortunately however, the statement of the wizard's did more than it was intended to. Fili and Kili, so absorbed in proving the other wrong, had been quite oblivious to their surroundings. It was only after the wizard's shadow and speech fell upon them that they realized they were not alone. Not knowing who or what it was, Middle Earth being full of strange creatures beyond count, they were quite startled. Yelping once more in dismay, they lost their balance, and fell over unimpressively into the floor of leaves.

Laying there like petrified rabbits, they stared with large round eyes at the tower of Grey in front of them, foreseeing certain doom. Even Fili, who normally had an excuse or good story for these types of circumstances, had quite lost his tongue. Kili did not even blink, awaiting thunder or fire, most likely both.

Gandalf however seemed very tired of the entire affair, and released a great sigh, much to the relief of the Dwarves. Looking at them with exasperated eyes he spoke with an air of despair.

"If you are quite done with your games among the leaves _children_," he said condescendingly, "Kindly see fit to at least keep up and not wander away."

The wizard turned from the sad scene, mumbling about how he disliked Dwarves in general and their many faults. It would serve them right if he did leave them at this moment. Camping with the two boisterous youngsters had been no joke. He had lost count of the times he had shouted for silence in the deep of the night, only to have the ever present whispering of Fili and Kili return once more. In vain he had attempted to remember what exactly Thorin had done to remedy this problem, but this had eluded his mind, and for the life of him he could not remember. How Thorin had ever gotten an ounce of discipline out of the troublesome two he would never know. But then again he wouldn't ever need to know, he had much more important things than that on his mind.

He could just barely make out Fili and Kili speaking behind him.

"Oi." Kili said, "Did he just insult us?!"

This was answered by a sharp elbow from Fili, who had no wish to stare death in the face so close again.

The signs of Orc activity had been steadily rising during the entire journey, and Gandalf could not help but feel slightly anxious as to how his Burglar was faring. It seemed that the closer they came, the more the danger grew. It was worse that all Gandalf had to trust in was Thorin, who was by no means what Gandalf call the most suitable guardian. A gnawing doubt had begun to grow inside the wizard, he had not yet spoken of it, but it was there. What if Thorin left Bilbo? Thorin considered Bilbo a burden as it was, and if this burden complicated the chances of survival...Well Gandalf knew enough to know how desperate danger made folk. He did not like to think of it.

Fili and Kili had helped with nothing, besides finding another Orc body. The odd thing was that the said creature had had no visible slash wounds. Odd. Very odd. Perhaps another force was at work here. If so, this could be a very difficult situation indeed. A shout from Kili suddenly dragged the wizard out of his thoughts.

"Gandalf! Over here!" The Dwarf signaled with his hand, beckoning the old man to come and see what had been found. Fili was grinning, obviously for what they viewed as good news. But whether it was news of a good sort remained to be seen. Through experience he had found that his idea of 'good news' differed slightly from Fili and Kili's idea of 'good news'.

Hastily making his way over to where the Dwarf stood, he mentally prepared himself. Orc bodies were not pleasant, and the lads seemed to have an uncanny knack for finding them. However, once there Gandalf saw no body, and could not help but think that perhaps this was some sort of practical joke.

"Well?" He growled.

Fili and Kili gave eachother a smug glance, and turning to the wizard Fili began, and to the wizard's annoyance much in the style of his uncle Thorin Oakenshield.

"Master Gandalf, for many hours we have searched these woods from top to bottom, every nook and cranny, every glen, but have not been able to find anything having been witness to my esteemed Uncle and Lord's passing, nor of your most excellent Burg-"

Here he was sharply interrupted. Gandalf had no use for speeches, time was short.

"Just get to the point Fili!" The Wizard shouted.

Fili looked offended, why was it that no one seemed to like his speeches? No one interrupted Thorin's...

Kili however at that moment rescued the situation.

"Gandalf. We found it! The trail! You know, the one you los-"

The wizard interrupted again. That was an unnecessary detail.

"Yes, yes!" He said somewhat hotly, "Show me then!"

With a flourish of his hand Kili presented the distinct marks of Dwarven boots and Hobbit feet, bearing witness to the travelers passing. Both Dwarves began grinning with obvious pleasure, they had rescued the rescue attempt. Both would be disappointed however, if they had expected any praise from the wizard, who ignoring them utterly began looking about and following it.

Speaking outloud, but mostly to himself the wizard spoke, "They have turned Northward."

"Gandalf!" came the anxious voice of Kili, as his sharp eyes found a disturbing sign, "Blood! And it is no orc blood!"

The wizard rushed to the Dwarf's side, but what he feared was only confirmed, as he saw drops of crimson red on the forest floor. "One at least, is wounded." The wizard's voice now took on a worried tone, "and Orcs are about it seems."

"But Bilbo or Thorin?" Fili pondered aloud.

Gandalf straightened and stood up slowly, did these Dwarves really expect him to know that? He was just about to turn to give them a good piece of his mind when he noticed they were gone. Odd, he had not heard them leave. He glanced about wildly, only to see the two fellows starting off in a northerly direction. Kili turned back at Gandalf for a moment and shouted.

"Come on Gandalf! We've got to find them!"

Gandalf huffed into his beard in vexation. So _now_they were suddenly so helpful. Never, on good Arda, would he again allow himself to travel with Dwarves. They were everything disagreeable one never hoped to find in a traveling companion. Gandalf still had not quite forgiven them for the hours of sleep they had robbed from him. Never had such a thing happened in his entire long life, and the wizard swore, never again would it happen. It was not to be borne.

Within a few moments the wizard had once again taken his rightful place, leading the two Dwarves onwards. Fili and Kili had drawn their weapons, with grim looks on their faces, determined to fight whatever was necessary in order to rescue their Uncle and friend. Their readiness did nothing to aid Gandalf, as he began having thoughts of his own on meeting orcs. When he did not think they were looking, he would every so often check Glamdring for a blue glow. Fortunately there was none.

They traveled thus in an uneasy quiet for some hours, with the air having a feeling of tight tension, waiting for something to happen. It was then that Gandalf noticed the trail change oddly. He could find no sign of the Hobbit. Of the Dwarf yes, most definitely. But the Halfling? Bilbo Baggins? He had seemingly disappeared, leaving no trace.

What had happened? Gandalf feared the worst. He had always known that Thorin was not the best sort to have entrusted with the Halfling, but he had hoped the Dwarf had some sense of honor. The wizard's frown grew into a scowl, despising the Dwarf that had left the helpless hobbit in some forsaken place.

He began muttering darkly, it would serve Thorin right if they chose to leave him in his predicament, but luckily for him some persons still held honor in high regard.

"Mr. Gandalf..." Fili began, "I cannot find any sign of Mr. Baggins..."The Dwarf wrinkled his brow, showing his frustration.

Gandalf however was in no jovial or patient mood,and barked out, "I should not be surprised if your _honorable_Uncle has left my Burglar behind! No doubt to save him own skin." growling the wizard, spat out the word 'honorable' as he thought of a particularly nasty spell to use if the Dwarf was indeed guilty of what the wizard believed.

Both Fili and Kili looked shocked by this accusation, and quickly leapt to their uncle's defense.

"No!"

"He would never do that!"

"Never!"

"I find it," The wizard started in a menacing voice, "quite possible. Thorin has never had any great liking of my Burglar."

"You offend us and our family wizard!" Fili cried, eyes flashing with anger.

"You don't know the all the facts yet! You can't judge when you don't know!" Kili shouted, waving a hand wildly and voice becoming shrill with excitement, "You don't know Thorin! He would never leave anyone behind!"

Gandalf, knowing that insulting the line of Durin was perhaps not the wisest of action to take at this moment shrugged it off. "It remains to be seen." he said, forcing himself to soothe the anger he felt, "If Thorin has left Bilbo behind or hasn't will be discovered before long. Come, we are losing precious time." The wizard started again, but felt the angry stares of the loyal nephews. He heard them muttering something about "nerve and audacity".

The wizard however ignored this, absorbed by his own thoughts. He would never forgive Thorin if the Halfling had come to any harm, for he knew that he would in the end be responsible. He would never be able to forgive himself if Mr. Baggins came to any harm.


	11. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER: NOTTA MINE, EZ TOLKIEN'S STUFF! I HAD FUN WITH IT. NO MONEY I HAZ GOT. *Turns out empty pockets* xD**

**As requested, here is some more Bilbo and Thorin! Hope you all enjoy! Thanks so much for all your lovely comments! You are really too kind. :) **

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Bilbo shivered. The weather had taken a sudden change, becoming bitter cold instead of the pleasant cool the travelers had enjoyed earlier. The sun was just beginning to sink, letting its rays weakly attempt to grab hold of the Earth, warming nothing and floating about like phantoms. It appeared as if a storm was in the brewing, as dark angry clouds had begun to form, seeming to wait just for the moment when the sun would relinquish its daily rule. If Bilbo knew anything about weather, he was quite certain it would become a good deal colder as the night grew older.

Thorin had carried him at tremendous speed for many hours, longer than Bilbo had thought possible. The Dwarf being not exactly young anymore, and not in the best of health. The exertion however had not come without it's price. Thorin walked now with his limp much more pronounced, and at times would let out a hiss at certain intervals. His breath came out labored, with the air around his mouth and nostrils forming into vapor from the cold and fluttering about his face. Despite this however, they had made very good time, traveling far and for the moment still not detected by the hunting Orcs. Bilbo was worried that Thorin might choose to travel all night, because the Dwarf forced himself onwards with no sign of stopping.

Although Bilbo did not like to admit it, Thorin's stubbornness had saved his life. The fact that the Dwarf had flatly refused to leave the Hobbit, even when taking the Halfling with him endangered his own chances at survival, had really touched the Hobbit. Bilbo knew the Dwarf was not particularly fond of him. Dwarves were indeed a peculiar people, at certain times they could be the most stubborn thick headed fools in all of Middle Earth, and at other times could be as loyal and noble as a great hero out of old tales. But then again perhaps all the peoples of Middle Earth were that way.

A wind was now building up, buffeting both Hobbit and Dwarf with its airy blows. Bilbo's nose felt like a cold stone upon his face, somehow not feeling a part of him. He sniffed in an effort to warm it. Perhaps this is why Dwarves grew beards. The Hobbit closed his eyes as the icy air stung the edges of his eyelids, making them feel like frozen lace.

Thorin then slowed, shifting his burden up higher, he gazed at what seemed a most welcome sight in the brisk weather. Out of the rolling woodlands, half hidden by a long curtain of ancient mosses, grew the opening of a cave. He stopped completely, sighing in evident pleasure at the sight of what promised a good rest, something Thorin desperately wanted and ,although he would not admit it, needed. This was luck indeed! Feeling the sudden lack of movement, the Burglar opened his eyes. Thorin, thinking the Hobbit might be asleep moved his shoulder in an effort to wake him.

"Bilbo. Look!" Thorin said, scarcely able to keep the satisfaction from his voice. The opening of the underground chamber seeming to beckon them to its mouth.

Bilbo shifted, trying to gain a better view, but stopped upon hearing Thorin give out a short gasp.

"Oh, Sorry!" The Hobbit quickly apologized.

"Just be careful up there, will you?" The Dwarf grumbled. "Come on then." With that he started towards the cave, but deposited Bilbo just outside. The Dwarf gave a quiet groan as he allowed the Hobbit to return to the ground, relieving himself of the burden he had carried so far. The Hobbit was perplexed by this action.

"Wait a minute. Aren't I coming in too?" Bilbo asked.

"Yes." The Dwarf answered with a surprising amount of patience, "I am just seeing if all is as it seems. Caves are seldom unoccupied, especially in these parts. I will return for you." Then with a warning tone he added, "Stay here until I return."

With that he turned and disappeared into the cave.

Bilbo sighed, he just hoped that whatever Thorin was doing in there, that he just wouldn't be too long about it. It was cold, and the Hobbit rather liked the idea of getting out of the chill. In boredom he kicked at the leaves, immediately regretting the action having met with something hard and having used his bad foot. Yelping as he reawakened the pain in his foot he held it stiffly in the air, groaning. But looking at the ground he was surprised to find that his kick had uncovered a stone step.

It was ancient and worn, showing the many seasons that had softened its once sharp edges, broken and covered by leaves it had been quite undetectable. Bilbo wrinkled his brow in interest as his sharp eyes found the remains of what appeared to be ancient runes. From what Bilbo guessed, they did not say "Welcome". He doubted if they meant anything friendly at all. It was then that he remembered Thorin was inside the cave. The Dwarf should probably know this information. But then again, he had in a way promised to wait for Thorin...

Quickly, the Hobbit weighed his choices, and decided to walk in after Thorin. Looking at the cave it now appeared much more menacing than it had earlier. Bilbo bravely took a deep breath, and stepped inside, as the darkness enveloped him. Blinking, his eyes soon began to make out shapes and forms in the underground chamber, finding the area about him actually quite comfortably shaped. The floor was smooth, with the walls carved with runes and designs of the same sort he had found outside. Looking back at the entrance he saw the wormed and holed remains of oak, which he could only guess had at one time been a massive door. There was however, no sign of Thorin.

"Thorin!" Bilbo called out.

The Hobbit turned, just about to travel deeper inside to see what he could find of Thorin when he suddenly felt a strong hand fall onto his shoulder. Shouting in fear he felt a hand cover his mouth, as he found himself face to face with Thorin. With a frown the dwarf brought his finger over his lips motioning for silence from the Hobbit and slowly removed his other hand from the Hobbit's mouth.

"Did I not," Thorin whispered (or perhaps angrily hissed was a better word for it.) "Tell you to stay outside until I had seen whether or not the cave was occupied?"

"Yes!" Bilbo answered, annoyed, "But I found something. A set of stairs with ru-"

"Runes?" Thorin finished.

"Yes, but how did you know that?"

Thorin explained, "These halls are of Dwarvish make. Not of my people, the Longbeards or of any of the other Seven families. I would guess Petty Dwarves, long abandoned. They lived in many hidden communities. I imagine this was an outpost of sorts." He turned and began walking through the halls, beckoning for Bilbo to follow.

The Hobbit was only too happy not to be sent back outside, "I thought there was only one type of Dwarf?" Bilbo asked, fascinated with what little Thorin had said.

"There is but one." Thorin answered, looking surprised that the Hobbit did not understand this.

"Then what are Petty Dwarves?" Bilbo prodded.

"Oh." Thorin said, understanding that Bilbo had no knowledge on this matter. "Well. It is difficult to say. Their kind has not been seen or heard of since the end of the First Age. It is thought that they had all perished by the Second Age."

Eagerly Bilbo pressed him for more, "Are-were they terribly different from other Dwarves?"

Thorin stroked his beard as he attempted to remember what he knew of this legend, "Well, they were smaller. Probably no taller than yourself. Like us in some ways, and unlike in others. Like Hobbits they built their homes in soft earth in woods and fields, while most Dwarves prefer the strength of mountains."

The Hobbit paused for a moment, allowing what Thorin had said to sink in.

"And no one has met any at all since the early Second Age?" He finally asked.

"None. At least not in my lifetime." Thorin answered, "They've passed into our myths and legends, and it is only halls such as these that pay witness to their past existence. An entire race they once were, and even more wary of strangers then we." He rubbed his hand softly over a wall, looking thoughtful about the remnants of an entire civilization that had vanished.

"Erm, why didn't they stay with other Dwarves? Their own kind I mean?" The Hobbit questioned, furrowing his brow as he wondered about this.

"As I recall," Thorin replied, remembering from his early lessons as a Dwarf Prince in Erebor, "They were banished early in the First Age."

"Why?" Came the Hobbit's foreseen question.

"I do not know." The Dwarf said slowly, pondering the question himself. "The knowledge of this matter has been lost, so that it is as much a mystery to you as it is to me."

Bilbo fell silent, thinking on what had been said. Why had the Petty Dwarves been banished from their own kind? What crime did they commit to merit such punishment? He felt himself filled with a feeling of awe and respect for the people that had faded thousands of years before he had been born, and felt and pity and a sadness for their departure from this world.

"This way Mr. Baggins!" He heard Thorin call, waking him from his thoughts. Limping as fast as he could to catch up Bilbo grumbled under his breath, Thorin was always in much too much of a hurry. While Bilbo was thus occupied, the Dwarf lifted an old torch reverently from its resting place, covered in the dust that had accumulated over the ages. Dwarves are very good with flame of all sorts, always keeping some way of starting a fire about them. At this time however, matches were not known to the world. Thorin was able to do well enough without them however, pulling out a strange metal that burst with sparks when struck. Within a short moment he had lit the torch, casting its light about in order to view their surroundings.

"It does not appear that no one has been here for a good many years," Thorin said slowly, "But looks can be deceiving as they say. Be careful ; disturb as little as possible. We will stay but one night."

Bilbo nodded silently, already taking the Dwarf's advice to heart. He had no wish for trouble from any hostile underground creature, and did not exactly look forward to a run if it was necessary. Within a short time they had discovered a small storage room, long empty and having a great oaken door. They had settled themselves comfortably in there,preparing to spend the night and have perhaps the first full rest in the last few days. Thorin sat down with a sigh, accompanied by a low moan. Noticing how Bilbo kept looking at the door and nervously into the hall, he rose up with some difficulty, and putting his shoulder to the heavy door closed Dwarf then hung the Torch in a convenient holder in the wall, placing three other torches near it that he had found in the room. When he had finished with this, he sat down stiffly once more, stifling the pained sound that sprang unbidden from his lips. The Hobbit suddenly broke the silence.

"Thank you by the way." Bilbo's voice came warmly and full of gratitude, and he meant it.

"For what?" The Dwarf looked up with a surprised face.

If Thorin had looked surprised, Bilbo was surprised still more. "For saving my life!" The Hobbit could not help but be baffled, either Thorin was being thick on purpose or he was very tired, either way both were not entirely impossible.

"Oh." The Dwarf said, "Think nothing of it Mr. Baggins, you have saved my life more than once on this adventure. I cannot help but feel that one good turn deserves another." Thorin gave a weak smile, leaning back on the stone wall to rest his aching frame and fiery side.

"So I suppose we're even for the moment being." Bilbo looked amused.

"For the moment." Thorin smirked, but then gave out a harsh cough. Recovering, he grabbed in deep ragged breaths of air, leaning back once more and slowly closing his eyes in a pained expression.

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******Author's note: The Petty Dwarves are in fact a race of Tolkien's creation, so I am not pulling something out of the blue. They differ from "True Dwarves" on several points, being about the size of Hobbits, and very free with the Dwarvish language and even giving out their secret names. (A big no no in Dwarvish society.) They dislike and fear strangers, keeping their homes utterly secret. They were banished from the society of the Seven Families of the True Dwarves in the beginning of the first age for unknown reasons, and died out before the Second Age. The Sindar Elves, who not knowing what the Petty Dwarves were, hunted them for sport thinking them pests. Thus Ironing into the tiny fellows a great hate of all Elves. It was not until the True Dwarves made contact with the Sindar Elves that it was realized the Petty Dwarves were in fact Dwarves, but the damage had already been done, and the Petty Dwarves would hate the Elves forever.  
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*******Secret Names: Dwarves never reveal their true names to others then their kin, not even writing them on their Tombstones. Their true names are only spoken in the Khuzdul, never written anywhere for fear that it might be revealed.**


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER: SAME AS BWEFORE FOLKS. SEE EARLIER CHAPTAHS. DANKE KINDLY. **

**Chapter #12! Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for all your lovely comments! Dey maek meh happeh. ^_^**

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"Erm..." Began Bilbo, but Thorin immediately shot him a hostile look of warning should he continue on the matter. The Hobbit, guessing that the subject was off limits for discussion, quickly closed his mouth with a snap.

Satisfied, Thorin let his head fall back against the cool stone, feeling quite at home and enjoying the rest that his aching feet had been crying for. There was not one part of his body that did not have soreness to complain of, but it was a good type of pain that he rather enjoyed. It told of a day well done, and this pleased Thorin. He sat like this for some time, until upon hearing movement his eyes snapped open. Turning to the source of the noise, he saw Bilbo, who looked as if he was in the middle of a debate with himself whether or not to disturb the Dwarf. Sighing, Thorin decided to save him the trouble.

"Well?" The Dwarf asked, looking somewhat irritated that his sleep had been disturbed.

The Hobbit jumped, not expecting the Dwarf's question, but recovered quickly.

"Oh, erm yes. I was just wondering about a meal? I think we could both do with one." The Hobbit attempted a friendly grin, but Thorin's impassive face soon crushed the effort. The Dwarf pointed to the discarded bundle of supplies.

"In the front pocket. You should find something, help yourself."

The Hobbit mumbled his thanks, and limped over to the bundle, opening it and viewing the edible contents with a disappointed air. Nothing was particularly appetizing, but the Hobbit's hunger soon overcame his preferences. He then sat himself down in a comfortable corner, eating his meal.

Bilbo, needless to say felt more satisfied that night then he had for quite a few. He was warm, dry, and had a filling (if not the most savory) meal. His glance strayed to the Dwarf, who had resumed his silence. Thorin was by no means a talkative fellow, unless the situation required it, and often enough prefered to spend his camp moments in the company of himself. His nephews were a stark contrast, and Bilbo could not help but wonder how three persons of the same family could differ so greatly.

Oddly enough it was Thorin who broke the Hobbit's thoughtful silence.

"You are strangely quiet Mr. Baggins. Usually you are full of questions, can it be that your curiosity has finally been satisfied?" The Dwarf still had his eyes closed, as if half dosing. He smirked softly to himself as he heard the Hobbit's answer.

"Well I'm eating of course! And you aren't exactly one to encourage conversation." The Hobbit's tone was an annoyed one.

"And what am I doing to offend you now?" The Dwarf asked, amusement clearly written on his face.

"Doing whatever it is that you always do I expect." The Hobbit eyed the Dwarf, giving a smug smirk.

Thorin snorted at this. At least this journey was doing some good. There was a time when only a simple stare would have had the Hobbit flustered beyond believability. He settled himself more comfortably, at least there seemed that there would be peace from questions tonight.

"I was wondering." The Hobbit started.

Thorin sighed. Perhaps peace was a far-fetched notion, at least with Hobbits. He opened his heavy and tired eyes slowly, turning to Bilbo with an expectant look.

"Hmm?" He sleepily managed out.

"When you were speaking earlier about the Petty Dwarves, I heard you mention Seven families..." The Hobbit eagerly encouraged.

"I did." Thorin said bluntly, hoping to discourage anymore questions. Gratitude only went so far, especially when Thorin's sleep was concerned.

The Hobbit however did not seem to notice, and took Thorin's silence as encouragement, much to Thorin's displeasure.

"Which family do you belong to?" The Halfling asked, showing no sign of weariness. Thorin thought it was easily explained by the fact that the Hobbit had done next to nothing that day. Fortunately for Bilbo, the Dwarf held his peace and forced himself to be patient as he answered."The family that perhaps the rest of the peoples of Middle Earth are best acquainted with are the Longbeards. I am of this family, as is Fili, Kili, and most of the company."

"Oh, so you're all related?" Thorin's listener found the revelation quite interesting.

Thorin smiled, "Distantly." he said, "You have probably noticed that there is little resemblance among us."

Bilbo chuckled, thinking of the enormous Bombur. It was true, the company members were as different as apples and oranges. No observer would never guess what Thorin had just revealed.

Although he had traveled with Dwarves for quite a while now, Bilbo still knew next to nothing about them. Even the friendliest Dwarves seemed to guard their kind's secrets. It was rare indeed that the Hobbit had been able to learn anything. What little he had learned was the few bits of information he had got from Balin. Bilbo had truly been surprised to find Thorin readily willing to share his knowledge, and not knowing how long the Dwarf's mood would last, had taken advantage of it.

Thorin had laid back down, closing his eyes once more, seeking the solitude of his dreams and the memories they held. Throughout the day Thorin had felt slightly qualmy, but with the stop of motion his body reacted badly from his exertion. He suddenly felt a vague queasy feeling growing within his stomach, as it rushed about him like smoke, growing in strength and making Thorin very uncomfortable indeed.

He stifled a groan as a particularly nasty wave of nausea washed over him. Luckily the Hobbit did not seem to hear what little sound had made off free despite Thorin's efforts. It would not do to tell the Hobbit, who was unlearned in medicine and would only worry to death anyway. He silenced another moan. Valar! What was wrong with him?! It had not been a minute however, when the Hobbit spoke again.

"Thorin?"

"Last question Bilbo." The Dwarf growled out in reply, now showing his annoyance. He could and would be civil, he could and would carry the Hobbit if necessary, but he drew the line at taking his valuable time for sleeping. He was not feeling well as it was anyway.

"What are Dwarven women like?"

Thorin reared up like a corpse, eyes fixing on the Hobbit as if trying to understand what he meant, and to see if there was some secret meaning behind his words.

"What on earth do you want to know that for?" Thorin demanded, glaring at the Hobbit with an odd and suspicious look. Bilbo was startled for a moment, for this was completely unlike Thorin.

Bilbo casually shrugged, attempting to persuade the Dwarf that he meant no harm. "Curious I suppose. And anyhow, we've got nothing else to do."

"Oh, yes we do." Thorin said sharply, "and that is sleep!"

"Surely you're not going to sleep now?" The Hobbit looked surprised.

"Yes, and why not?" Thorin eyed him with some hostility.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Bilbo looked concerned. What was Thorin playing at? Traveling long and hard for an entire day, and going to sleep without taking supper? It was a foolish decision at the least, and if Bilbo knew Thorin, he was not one to make such a blatant and stupid mistake.

"No." The Dwarf replied guardedly, "I do not feel a need to for the present."

"You don't feel a need to?! You've been about all day without a bite to eat and with me on your back! And you mean to honestly tell me that you 'don't feel a need to for the present'?! The Hobbit protested. Dwarves have a reputation for having hearty appetites (Bilbo had discovered this first hand.) and if Thorin wasn't eating things could not be well.

The Dwarf crossly snarled, "I have answered enough questions for this night Mr. Baggins. I wish to sleep now; if I choose not to eat it is my decision! So by the grace of Mahal leave me in peace!" Although he would not admit it yet, the Dwarf felt a churning in his stomach that had slowly been growing on him during the day. It was hardly pleasant, and the Dwarf feared the consequences of eating while it was so sensitive. To make matters worse, his head felt as if someone was beating on it from the inside, and his body would take violent turns between freezing cold and boiling hot. He had hoped it would wear off during the evening, but there was still no sign of it doing so. If anything, it was getting worse. Thorin did not know how much longer he could stand it, and the Hobbit's constant questions were not helping. He turned from the Hobbit and cast himself once more into a resting position; he had had enough with Hobbits. They brought nothing but trouble anyway.

Surprisingly enough, the Hobbit retorted just as sharply.

"Look here!" he said, "You're acting like a fool! You often talk about how important it is to keep one's strength up on a journey! You need to eat something Thorin!"

The Dwarf leaned up on an elbow, glaring at the Hobbit as he answered in an ireful voice constricted by anger.

"I have chosen not to eat tonight Mr. Baggins. Let there be an end to it! Now be quiet and go to sleep!"

However, the angry response only made the Hobbit more determined.

"You're a fool Thorin Oakenshield. You're not well, and you refuse to eat! I would be better off stuck with an Orc for company!" Bilbo smartly returned. Orc however was a poor choice of words, for it did not have the desired effect.

"Orc is it?!" The Dwarf was fairly fuming, how dare this Halfling compare _him_ to that hated race of monsters! Those that had taken so much away from him! His people! Countless had died! This Halfling dishonored their memory with his words. _How dare he. _"That can be arranged!" he shouted angrily, forgetting all else. " Foolish Hobbit! I have seen after you Mr. Baggins as honor and my promises to that meddling wizard called for! To the best of my ability! Only to be cursed for my efforts! I wish to the Valar I had never had the misfortune to have been burdened by you! I have bought your safety with great pains Mr. Baggins! You miserable...ungrateful-" He looked as if he was about to say something particularly dreadful, but perhaps thinking better of it, stood up violently with an ugly scowl on his features. With a purposeful stride (At least as best as he could manage while limping) he walked to the ancient Oaken door, with the torchlight dancing off it eerily. He opened it with a mighty motion slamming it behind him as he hobbled out into the dark halls, leaving the wide-eyed Hobbit alone in the cold and silent chamber.

"Fool youself" and "Serves him right if he dies from malnutrition" had been Bilbo's initial thought. But glancing about he felt suddenly very alone, and with that fear. The room seemed to grow much more dark and menacing without Thorin's sure presence, the shadows dancing in a taunting manner, and the slightest sound freezing Bilbo's blood. The Hobbit drew himself up, wishing he could hide and disappear from his terrible surroundings. No longer did the halls hold any charm without Bilbo's companion. Thorin had wandered into the darkness as easily as we might wander into a field. But even fields, as safe as they may seem, can hold unseen dangers. The Dwarf had done this in anger, and was clearly not thinking clearly. Something was quite wrong.

'Now you've done it Mr. Baggins' the Hobbit thought to himself.


	13. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER: SAME AS BEFORE FOLKS. CHECK OUT DA EARLIER CHAPTAHS. DANKE KINDLEH. **

**Here's #13! Thanks for all your lovely comments everyone! You're all fantastic! ;)**

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Down the hall, a short distance away, Thorin had made his way to the entrance of the cave. He stood there, enjoying the peaceful silence. Breathing deeply, he attempted to calm himself, hearing the Hobbit's words echo again and again within his mind. Part of him knew that the Hobbit really hadn't meant to insult, but he still felt a good deal of anger at the offensive comment. That, combined with how unwell he felt and the Hobbit's chattering voice had really been too much. Thorin would readily admit to himself at least, that patience had never been one of his virtues.

He clutched his stomach as another wave of churning broke over him. Leaning against the wall he gave a curse. Why was this happening? He did not have a weak digestion, and had never had difficulties with it. He thought that perhaps he might have eaten something to disagree with it, but then again the Hobbit had been right. He had not eaten the entire day. In fact, at the moment, Just thinking of edibles made him ill.

His head now sounded like a drum, with its constant beating making him feel as if his head would soon explode from the pressure. That type of pain however, he could bear easily. The pain he felt within his stomach was another matter entirely. He did not remember ever feeling this ill, not since long ago when he was a lad. The memory was just as clear and vivid in his mind as it had been one hundred and twenty years ago. He still remembered, the kind face of his mother as she nursed him back to health. Such a face would be hard to forget. The blur of his grandfather Thror, looking somewhat concerned but still keeping the regal bearing of a king, in the background. His father of course nowhere to be seen. But that had always been Thrain's way, always elsewhere, almost non-existent. Thorin still felt a great anger at how his father had been an unknown shadow to his children, but was grateful for his grandfather. It was Thror who had been the fatherly figure in Thorin's life. He had been strict, but fair. Teaching Thorin all that a prince and warrior must know. The knowledge that he had passed down had saved Thorin's life many times, and even to this day still aided him. He had always been a sure presence in Thorin's memory, like a pillar of stone with its strength. Thrain had done none of these things, acting like a ghost around the royal line, ignoring his family's need of him.

Thorin had been much like his grandfather, showing a great willingness to serve his people and make his forefathers proud. He readily bowed to duty and honor, realizing their importance. Thrain had had little interest in the running of his great kingdom, often causing Thror to despair of him. Perhaps this had been the reason why Thror had taken such great pains with his grandson, ensuring at least one strong king after him. Thorin had not disappointed, and slowly Thror had let more and more duties fall to the young prince, until finally Thorin took the place of the King's right hand man. Loyal to his king and people.

This had caused Thorin to be different from his siblings. Because of his great expectations, he often was the responsible and adult member in his sibling's wild escapades.

Frerin had been the jolly trickster of the family, and like Thrain showed little interest in the kingdom. Never taking anything seriously, he was full of laughter and looked at the world brightly with enthusiasm strangely akin to Fili and Kili. Thorin would never speak of it, but Kili looked nearly as his long dead uncle had. The uncle he had never known. Even favoring the Bow over sword as Frerin had.

Frerin required little to put a smile on his face, and was completely satisfied with his daily amusements, which often included practical jokes on unsuspecting nobles and servants. Thorin had often found himself torn between his duty and brotherly affection, finding Frerin in a pickle and becoming quite conflicted with the possible decisions. He would usually end up giving in, saving Frerin from whatever madness he had gotten himself into and keeping the entire affair quite secret. It would not have done to allow Thror to discover what the lads had been up to. Thorin had lost count of the times he had saved his brother from well earned chastisement.

Dis was a fiery girl, having a temper to be feared, but stubbornly loyal to her brothers. She too, would often do her best to help Frerin out of his difficulties, and aided Thorin often in his attempts. Even defending Frerin's choice of a bow as his main weapon. Never would she hear anything said against Frerin and Thorin, proud of both her brothers she would challenge any that said anything negative about them. She had a mass of blonde curly hair, which she often kept in complicated ways about her head. Thorin never understood how she had the patience to keep it in such a manner, preferring himself to let his own hair flow simply. But then again she was a girl, and girls were peculiar creatures.

When Frerin had died, he had taken a great deal of his sibling's hearts with him. Dis and Thorin had remained quite close, but spoke of him little. Frerin was a name unspoken in the heirs of Durin's presence.

Thorin remembered, grasping his brother's bloody hand in the battle of Azanulbizar. His last words still still written painfully in Thorin's heart, slain by the shining pool of Mirrormere in Moria, his blood mixing with its pure waters. Where Durin himself had walked his descendant Frerin died, a dream died as well. The dream of two brothers standing by one another for all eternity. All his life Thorin had believed that Frerin would be by his side, with him. He had never thought the day would come when he would say goodbye to the bright smile and shining eyes. But this dream was shattered. Like Thror, Thorin had built up many strong walls around himself, that only a privileged few knew the entrance to. With Frerin's death they had cracked. Thorin had wept then, one of the few times he had ever allowed himself to do so, and the last.

Thorin shook his head, willing himself to concentrate on other matters, forcing the aching memories back into the darkness. This was the present. The past was over and gone. He could not bring Frerin back by thinking on him. He must stay focused.

Quickly, his mind ran over the events of the day, trying to find what the source of his discomfort had been, and if possible how to remedy it. It was then that a nasty suspicion grew within his mind. Removing his armor, he knew there was one thing to do. Pulling the bloodstained tunic away, he was able to view the bound and damaged area. Gingerly he removed the strips of cloth he had placed over the wound in his side, hissing as his fingers clumsily came into contact with the area around the sensitive injury. The slashed flesh had turned into a disturbing hue somewhere between purple and grey, looking almost dead, with pronounced veins having a yellowish tinge and black clots of blood. Like a malicious grin, the opening jeered back at the Dwarf, crushing any hope of a painless journey.

Looking at it caused Thorin to feel nauseous. The Dwarf leaned up against the wall, feeling unsteady on his feet and needing something to anchor himself. If only the worthy Oin was here. He would know what to do. As much as it pained Thorin to say so, he was absolutely clueless with these matters, and had only a vague idea that somehow the wound must be kept clean. Wondering what exactly was the best way to go about this without causing too much discomfort, his thoughts were broken by a voice.

"That looks nasty."

Turning with a start at the voice, he found none other than Bilbo Baggins, who had followed after him on silent Hobbit feet, staring at him. (Or rather the ugly opening along his ribcage) Glaring at the Halfling, he rebound it, pulling his tunic and armor back on. The Hobbit gave a small sigh, looking quite sympathetic and worried. Thorin did not like this. He wasn't an invalid.

"What are you doing here?! Gawking?!" The Dwarf barked angrily.

"You stormed off. We need to stay together." Then a little more firmly the Hobbit added, "Thorin. You need a rest. You're not well. Not well at all." Bilbo shook his head, as if to further emphasize the point.

"Well I expect there's few who feel well under the same conditions." Thorin sarcastically answered. He stifled a groan. Mahal! What had he done to deserve this?!

"Anyone with eyes can see you're going to kill yourself if you keep on! I mean ,l- look at yourself! You look terrible!" Bilbo's voice had an urgent tone to it, he was truly disturbed by the Dwarf's state of health. It did not take an expert to tell that something was wrong.

The Dwarf seemed in too much discomfort to really think of a good retort to this, and merely glared fiercely at the Hobbit with narrowed eyes. Bilbo sighed, why were Dwarves always like this? Why was it so difficult for them to accept help?

Not waiting for Thorin to answer the Hobbit continued, "Look. Because of you my foot's had a good long rest, and I found I can put some weight on it. Not too much mind you, but enough. Let me help you back at least. Let me help you Thorin."

The Dwarf seemed to think of this offer for a good long moment, and then slowly nodded. Bilbo could not help but think that the Dwarf must be in a good deal of pain in order to actually accept help from him. It was unheard of from Thorin.

Taking the tall Dwarf's arm over his shoulder, Bilbo helped Thorin make his way back to their camp with some difficulty. Thorin was a good deal larger than Bilbo, and although he was doing his very best to carry himself, being ill he could not help but put some weight on the small fellow. Bilbo however was determined to carry all that was necessary. With some alarm Bilbo heard Thorin's breath coming out in a jagged and laboured manner, accompanied by sounds of pain that the Dwarf was doing a good job at silencing.

"Fool." Bilbo muttered under his breath. Thorin thankfully did not quite catch what was said, but still believing that the Hobbit had addressed him managed with some difficulty a reply.

"What?"

A little startled that Thorin had almost caught him, Bilbo quickly made an excuse.

"Oh nothing. I was just thinking out loud. That's all."

The Dwarf grunted in reply, dragging his heavy feet over the smooth floors to their destination. Why on earth did Hobbits talk so much? Honestly, Bilbo was getting to be as bad as Gandalf. Thinking out loud indeed!

Within a few moments they had returned to the empty storeroom, the torch had burned low, and Bilbo lit a new one and replaced it. Setting Thorin in a corner, he made sure the Dwarf was comfortable and lacked for nothing, until Thorin shooed him away claiming that he was not "an invalid!". Bilbo could not help but smile at the ill temperedness of the Dwarf, but humored his wishes.

Turning from Thorin, Bilbo meant to sit and think, but was stopped by Thorin's voice.

"Wait!" The Dwarf forced out, still looking quite ill if a little more comfortable.

Bilbo turned back to Thorin, wondering what on earth the Dwarf could want after demanding an eclipse of the Hobbit's presence.

"What..what about...what about watch?"

"I'll take it." Bilbo generously offered.

"No. I will...will do my share. You must wake me." Thorin hardly looked able to perform this task, and Bilbo still had not quite forgiven him for taking his watch. Regardless, of his illness, Thorin gave the Hobbit a commanding look. The Hobbit smirked inwardly. What was that Thorin had said? One good turn deserves another?

Thorin, almost sensing the Hobbit's thoughts continued, "Do not take more than an hour mind you."

"Go to sleep Thorin. Morning comes quickly, and probably quicker than you might expect." Bilbo almost laughed, seeing how much he sounded like Thorin.

The Dwarf also caught the similarity, and Bilbo could hardly believe it as he could almost swear that Thorin had rolled his eyes at the small speech. The Dwarf lord settled himself more comfortably, and within a few minutes was sleeping. His rest however was troubled, as he tossed and turned, groaning all the while.

Watching him, Bilbo wished earnestly that there was something he could do to relieve Thorin of his discomfort. It was then that Bilbo remembered the chats he had had with Oin on the subject of healing. He remembered a plant that was used often to relieve pain, and thought he had seen it outside the cave. The good fellow could not bear the thought of another person in such a state, and if there was a way to remedy it, would try his best to do so.

Getting up silently, he glanced at Thorin, who was still sleeping. Weighing as to whether he could achieve his goal before Thorin woke and found him gone, the Hobbit decided to give it his best shot. He doubted Thorin was in the shape to search for him should the Dwarf take it into his head that Bilbo was missing.

Sneaking forward on cat paws, he pushed the oaken door open an inch at a time, in order to cause as little noise as possible. The door was old, and squealed on its hinges more than once. The Dwarf however, being a heavy sleeper did not awake to it.

Breathing the cool air of the passageway into his lungs, Bilbo blinked as his eyes grew used to the darkness. He only hoped that the Dwarf would stay asleep while he was gone.

The Hobbit started down the passage, ears open and alert for anything that he might come across.

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Bilbo glanced about wildly. Was he going the right way?! Was he lost?!

Taking a step back he shivered. The night was growing cold, and he missed the warmth of that storage room. He wouldn't be really surprised if Thorin had woken up by now, and hoped that the stubborn Dwarf would heed his health and stay where he was. He could just imagine the fool stumbling around looking for him when everything was quite all right.

He jumped as he thought he heard a sound. Was it?

Taking a few steps back, he looked upwards, trying to see if there was anything above him. His foot pressed against a stone, that immediately sunk into the earth. He heard a sharp click, and many rolling gears. The ground opened with a rumble beneath him, yawning with a monstrous pit.

With a cry the Hobbit fell. What little light there was fading as all went dark, and Bilbo saw no more.


	14. Chapter 14

**DISCLAIMER: SEE EARLIER CHAPTAHS. DANKE. **

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**I do believe I am behaving dreadfully towards poor Thorin. xP**

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When Bilbo finally came to, the first thing he became aware of was the cold. He could only guess that the lower level he had fallen to, and the time lost were responsible for the drop in temperature. Then it hit him. The lost time?! How long had he been here? Where was here?

Blinking, the Hobbit could see nothing in the pitch dark. He blinked again. Still nothing.

Slowly and cautiously, Mr. Baggins rose to a standing position, turning his head attempting to catch any light that might be in the darkness. If Bilbo had been hoping for his luck to keep up this time, he would be disappointed. For there was no light to be seen.

Blindly groping before him, the Hobbit felt what seemed to be a cane. Rising from who knows where and crawling up to the same. Bilbo grasped it and attempted to give it a good shake. It was quite firm, and despite the Hobbit's efforts would not yield. Running his hand downwards the Hobbit felt something that was twisted and had many harsh hairs. A Rope most likely. It was quite old, but still strong.

As he pulled his hand back, he felt the tap of another hard and long object. Reaching back he felt it. Another cane? Bilbo attempted to find it's top, but gave up as it reached far over his head. Furrowing his brow in thought the Hobbit brought his hand next to the structure only to find another.

"Hello?" he said, "What's this?"

Feeling to it's right he found yet another, and another, and another. Until he was fairly certain he had gone about in a circle.

"Drat!" the hobbit exclaimed. Was that it? A prison or cage of some sort? If that was the case, then how had he managed to fall into it? And more importantly, how was he going to manage getting out of it?

Somehow Bilbo had the nasty feeling that he had been out for hours. Although luckily for him he had not suffered more than a few bruises from the fall, he had been knocked cold and there was no exact way to measure how long he had remained thus. Thorin was sure to have woken up by now, and Bilbo could just see the frown on the Dwarf's features at finding his burglar missing. The stubborn fellow would of course go looking for him, but how would he find the Hobbit down here? Even if the Dwarf had months to go about it he could look all around and never even once come near the Hobbit. Or worse, if there were more of these traps around Thorin could just as easily find himself in the same sticky situation. A miserable end to their efforts indeed.  
Was this how it was all to end? Everything he had been through, had it all been for nothing? Was he to die here, alone and in the dark? Bilbo allowed himself to sink dejectedly to the floor. He could see no way out from this sightless prison. There was no chance of being found.

His thoughts went back to the Dwarf, and of what had passed earlier. It was one of those uncomfortable moments in which Bilbo realized that Thorin would very likely come looking for him, regardless of his earlier argument with the Halfling. Bilbo then found himself wishing that if indeed this was the end, that he might at least be able to say goodbye to the company. He saw their faces, one by one, drifting by. In these past weeks they had become much more than his employers, they had become friends.

The Hobbit pulled his knees up, resting his chin upon them despondently, and for perhaps the first time on the quest utterly despaired. Lost, alone, and trapped, he knew there was no way out. This was surely the end.

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Back in the storeroom, Thorin still slept fitfully. Shivering one moment, and burning the next. He tossed this way and that, attempting to find relief but failing miserably. The torch had burned low once more, its flame peaking shyly over the metal lip. It seemed to wave itself about even more frantically before, as if trying to gain any passerby's attention to it's plight.

The Hobbit had been gone for just under two hours, but Thorin in his misery had been oblivious to it. Had he known, he would have given an order for the Hobbit to remain. He did not wish for the incident by the stream to repeats itself. But it is debatable whether or not Bilbo would have listened.

With a soft puff of smoke, the torch suddenly burned itself out, leaving the room in darkness. Thorin's eyes snapped open, adjusting themselves quickly to the lack of light. Perhaps the Hobbit would be so good as to replace it. The Prince of Erebor was feeling unwell, and had little desire to rise at the moment.

"Bilbo?" he began.

There was however no answer save for the gentle echo of his own voice bouncing along the walls and returning to their master. By Durin's beard! Had the Halfling fallen asleep during his watch? Most likely. He was a Hobbit after all. Frowning the Dwarf tried in a louder voice.

"Bilbo!"

Still no answer. Odd. Very odd. Bilbo was by no means a heavy sleeper, and mere footsteps would awaken him on any occasion. Why did he not answer?

With a start Thorin pulled himself up, immediately regretting the swift action as his side and stomach protested, quite strongly. With a loud gasp he clutched his side as it reawakened with shockwaves running through him. Drawing in heavy lungfuls of breath, he waited as his body accepted the change in position, as the pain died down into a dull throb.

"Bilbo!" he grunted out, "Where-where are you?!"

Using the wall as support, he pulled himself forcibly to a standing position. The dull throb's embers leaping into a burning fire. Stifling his groans, he forced himself to remain concentrated. His eyes scanning the darkness for any suspicious hobbit shaped forms. Finding nothing, he pulled himself with some difficulty to a torch. Taking out a small knife and stone, he struck them against one another, sending crackling sparks onto the dry torch. Within a few moments, the flame had leapt up from it, rejoicing to be gracing the halls once more.

Lifting it as high as his damaged body allowed, he cast its light over the room, sending the shadows fleeing into the deep cracks. Everything was still there, minus one Hobbit.

"Valar's light no!" he cried out, followed by a great string of violent oaths.

Where had the Burglar run off to now? Did he not know these caves were full of dangers that he would be unable to detect?

"You will be the death of me Burglar!" He shouted despairingly to no one in particular. He really could not take much more of this. This was bordering on ridiculous. It seemed that every time he blinked the Hobbit was somewhere in trouble, and he was suffering for it. The Dwarf had always believed himself to have a good amount of luck, but any belief of this was shattered now. Surely he was most unlucky in all of Middle Earth.

He closed his eyes, praying that his strength might hold out a while longer. If Thorin had had any suspicions earlier as to his ailment, they were only confirmed by this sudden turn his health had taken. He had been poisoned. It was the only explanation. Orc blades are often kept in this manner, so that even a minor scratch can be fatal if not attended to. Thorin was no healer, and he doubted Mr. Baggins had any experience in these matters. There was nothing that could really be done. He could only hope that he could last long enough to reach the company. He must last. He would not give in. No, not while there was breath in his body.

Bilbo's disappearance was only another delay. The longer they delayed, the less chance of reaching the company, and ultimately the less chance of surviving this ordeal. This was most definitely the worst situation he could hope to find himself in. He had to remain strong, and force himself to reach their goal. But first, he must find the Hobbit. Odd, how Bilbo seemed to misplace everything, including himself. Blast the wretched Halfling!

Holding on to the cool cavern walls for support with one hand, and clutching his churning stomach with the other, the Dwarf pulled his heavy limbs and stumbled out into the ancient halls.

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Gandalf frowned. Still no sign of Mr. Baggins.

Fili and Kili had searched quite hard for much of the afternoon, as if to prove to the wizard their uncle would never commit the crime Gandalf suspected. Of the Halfling however, nothing could be found, and so Fili and Kili's claims could not be proved. This did nothing to improve their morale, and it seemed as if a dark cloud hung over them, as the three frowned in deep thought.

The sun was shining brightly, with birds singing joyfully within its rays. Deer playfully sprang with ease from the travelers, looking back and seeming to taunt them to a game of tag. Their eyes twinkling as if they knew the wizard and Dwarves would never keep up. The entire world seemed cheerful, but the wizard and his companions were silent with glum looks.

Even the usual chatter of Fili and Kili had remained silent for the last few hours, which the wizard counted as a miracle. Although none spoke, they all could feel one another's despairing thoughts. It looked quite certain that either Bilbo had been captured, or that Thorin had left him behind. Something that Fili and Kili absolutely refused to belief, still clinging loyally to their Uncle's good character.

"You don't suppose..." Kili started, whispering to Fili hoping that the wizard would not hear.

"No. Don't even start. We both know he would never. Ever." Fili answered, looking as sure as possible if only to convince his younger brother.

"Yes. We won't return without finding both of them." Kili said out loud, as if trying to convince himself as well.

"That, my dear Kili, is at the moment highly debatable. I doubt we shall find either before long." The grey clad wizard suddenly put in.

The Dwarves looked surprised, with Fili's eyes growing wide. (Only a little he would claim.)

"Did he..." he whispered to Kili, "Did he hear us?"

Kili shrugged in answer. Wizards were strange creatures, and in all truth he had not the slightest idea. But after the things they had been through in the last few tricks, he was willing to believe that anything was possible.

"Mr. Gandalf!" Kili started.

"What now Kili?" Gandalf said, looking heavenwards as if asking for patience. Dwarves were by far much more annoying than Hobbits. In the future, he promised himself to have as little to do with them as possible.

"You're a great and powerful wizard sir, or so I've heard say." Kili said, as Gandalf turned sharply and narrowed his eyes, guessing where this was leading. Raising an eyebrow expectantly, he gave his best discouraging look he could muster. Kili however, was little affected by it.

"Well, I was wondering...Why not just use some powerful spell to find Uncle and Bilbo?" Kili asked with innocent eyes.

Fili looked as if he was weighing his brother's statement, and then coming to some conclusion of his own nodded his head. As if he found himself agreeing completely.

"My dear Kili," the wizard replied in an annoyed tone, "Spells are to be used only as a last resort, and even if I were so inclined to use one, there are not spells for every hour of the day and every situation you all get yourselves into!"

Although the wizard would not admit it, he had not the faintest idea how to go about making a spell of that kind. He had a reputation to keep up, and his statement was true. Hopefully the Dwarves would let it go at that. He could not help but glance back as he heard them whispering.

"You believe him?" came Kili.

"Hmm. Sounds reasonable. I suppose." Fili stroked his beard attempting to look quite thoughtful.

"It must be terrible to be a wizard. Have to obey so many rules you know." Kili mused. He knew for certain that he would never want to be a wizard. Let others have that, he was happy as he was.

Both Dwarves nodded in unison, looking as if they were half in awe half sorry for Gandalf in his position as wizard. They had come to a very scholarly and wise conclusion, or so they thought.

Gandalf however growled under his breath. "You have no clue..."  
**  
**


	15. Chapter 15

**DISCLAIMER: SAME AS BEFORE, SEE EARLIER CHAPTAHS. DANKE. **

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Bilbo slowly opened his eyes. There was still no light of any kind. He was only barely able to distinguish a few shapes and blurs in the darkness, and even then it did little good.  
. It had perhaps been but half an hour since he had become conscious, but he might as well have stayed unconscious, as awake did little to improve the situation. He could not see in front, next to, or behind him. A feeling of claustrophobia had been slowly growing on him. Seeing and hearing absolutely nothing was enough to drive anyone mad. He shivered, the air was quite cold, having a distinct deathly feel to it, as if the Hobbit was trapped in a tomb. But then again, perhaps it was a tomb, Bilbo was buried alive far beneath the surface without hope of rescue. The feeling of nothingness about him crept into his heart, pouring its deadly cold despair mercilessly.

It was over. That was it. Over and gone. Like a page of a book, he had been turned and now his part in this tale was over.

He let his hand fall limply to his side, but felt the cold smooth feel of metal at his side. It was his sword. Like a shimmer of hope, he felt the chill from the cold metal. He pulled it out slowly from the scabbard, holding it in front as it gleamed dully. The orcs were not close thankfully. But perhaps that was a bad thing, because the blade produced little light at all. Bilbo then almost wished to have the hostile creatures near for sake of some light.

"Confusticate and all bother to it!" the Hobbit exclaimed out loud.

The echoes of his voice bounced along the cavern walls, far down the passageway and through the halls. Growing ever fainter as they disappeared. Bilbo was slightly taken aback, not having expected his voice to be at the volume that it came at nor the eery echoing.

Feeling blindly, he felt for the bars once more. Finding them strong and smooth as ever. Suddenly, a sharp and ringing voice disturbed the silence.

"Put your weapon away!" a mutter was added, "Or I'll do something dreadful..."

Bilbo turned with a start, unable to tell from which direction it had come from. Keeping his sword before him and glancing wildly about.

"It's no use I say. You'll see nothing, so there's less chance of seeing me." The voice reasoned in its peculiar penetrating tone. .

"Who and what are you?" The Hobbit demanded.

"That's mine to know and yours to find out." The voice snapped. "An' besides, I could ask the same of you!"

"Well..." Bilbo thought for a moment, "I asked first! It's only polite to answer my question!"

"An' if I'm not polite?" The voice laughingly countered.

The Hobbit shifted, whatever this thing was, he didn't think it sounded all that dangerous. No, it was worse. It was downright annoying. There was no menace to it, more like curiosity. But now, how to deal with it? Would it even allow him to deal with it? Also, if Thorin had said these halls were deserted, how and why was this creature here?

"You don't have an answer to that eh?" The voice seemed to have an almost childish tone to it with its small victory. Bilbo smirked as he decided to play along.

"No. No I don't have an answer to that."

"Then since I'm not polite, you stop talking and answer my questions." the voice commanded. Bilbo frowned, he disliked taking orders, from an invisible voice even more so. However, it seemed his only hope for the moment.

"Alright...We'll do it your way." The Hobbit answered.

"Good!" The voice sounded almost childishly jubilant, "Name!"

Bilbo raised an eyebrow. Name? Really...Were it him he'd be more concerned whether he was an orc or not. But then again this was a peculiar voice, with seemingly peculiar fancies. Best to humor it.

"My name is Bilbo Baggins." Bilbo answered, rolling his eyes.

"Bilbo Baggins?" The voice repeated, "Funny name that."

"Anything else you want to know?" The Hobbit answered in an impatient voice.

"Oooh, impatient are we?" The voice jeered.

"Well you would be too!" The Hobbit answered hotly, "Sorry if sitting in a cage, prison, or whatever it is isn't exactly my idea of a pleasant way to spend tea!"

"It's a trap." the voice corrected, "And of course there's more! Where's the fun if it ends this soon?"

Bilbo muttered something quite threatening under his breath, he did not enjoy this game the creature was playing. It was enjoying it much too much for the Hobbit to be comfortable.

"Fine. Fine then. Ask away. Just hurry." The Hobbit sighed. This might be longer than he thought.

"What are you?" the voice prodded.

"A...Hobbit of the Shire." Bilbo answered.

There was a silence for a few moments, as if the creature was thinking over what had been said. Bilbo for a brief moment thought it had left, and had begun to voice then came in a suspicious tone.

"A Hobbit? Shire? Ne'er heard of them. Bet you're lying."

"I'm not!" Bilbo declared in exasperation.

"Bet you are."

"I'm not! Why would I lie?" Bilbo attempted to reason.

"I don't know. Lot's of reasons to lie." The voice countered. Bilbo was really unable to argue with this, and with a tired sigh began a different approach.

"Look...will you please let me out from this pri-"

"trap." The voice quickly interrupted.

"Yes, trap. I meant that. Will you please let me out?" The Hobbit pleaded.

"Don't think I want to. You might be an orc. Nasty creatures."

Bilbo frowned. This was going to be very, very long. He sat himself down in a comfortable corner, and continued the most interesting (and he would later say vexing) conversation with a creature he could not see.

"Will you tell me your name and what you are?" The Hobbit tried.

"Don't want to."

"Can I have some light?" The Hobbit asked. Perhaps if he could see the creature he could tell what it was. Not to mention that being able to actually see it would make him feel much more at ease.

"No." The voice came.

Bilbo smirked as an idea hit him.

"How are you going to see what I am without light? You'll need light to make sure I'm not an orc."

The voice was quiet for a moment, hesitating.

"You can always leave me in here if I'm an orc." The Hobbit added. This seemed to give the voice the push it needed to decide, as it finally said.

"Alright..." it said slowly, " I'll get a light. But if you are an Orc, I will leave you in there forever." The last threat had a deep tone of menace to it, and Bilbo shuddered. The creature that the voice belonged to clearly had no qualms about leaving him there if it was required. He heard the soft patter of feet as the creature left to fetch what Bilbo had requested. Leaving him once more in the darkness.

'I hope I haven't botched this completely...' the Hobbit thought miserably.

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Thorin pulled himself forward painfully, forcing his aching and heavy limbs to move forward and trying his best to keep himself from groaning. The noise would only attract enemies, which he was clearly in no condition to fight off.

Blast the Burglar! Why was he always wandering off?!

He leaned against the wall to gain his breath, which came in deep and ragged gasps. He furrowed his brow as suddenly a new realization hit him. When he found the Halfling, who would undoubtedly be in trouble of some sort, how on earth was he going to help him? As much as it pained him to admit (if only to himself), he could not fight off any enemies if the Hobbit was in danger, and could not carry him if he was injured. The Dwarf was having a difficult enough time staying on his own two feet.

He had been traveling about the corridors for little more than an hour, and had found no trace or sign of the Hobbit. A feeling of panic had begun to hit him as he could feel his body slowing down to the inevitable. They had to get moving soon if they were to meet the company before it was too late. If he did not find the Hobbit soon...

He closed his eyes, allowing the dull throb in his body to wash over him. He was weary, and doubted he could keep this up much longer.

_"Come on Thorin! You're too slow!" A Dwarfling laughs back at his trailing sibling._

_Thorin laughs as well as he gives an extra spurt to catch up with the wild dark haired youngster ahead of him. Reaching his brother, his face takes a gleeful look as he begins to pass him. _

_"Oh no you don't!" Frerin grins, "I'm winning this race brother!" Pulling ahead, with wild hair flying, he giggles uncontrollably. _

_"No...you don't!" Thorin shouts playfully. He attempts to push by his brother, who in the spirit of competition gives a playful shove, trying to keep him from gaining any more speed. _

_With a yelp, Frerin trips on a loose stone, and losing his balance. With a cry, he falls back along the steep incline, as the sharp and cruel edge seems to beckon with open jaws. _

_"Thorin!" He shrieks in fear. _

_Thorin's eyes widen as he sees what is happening, he dives expertly grabbing the side of the cliff and anchoring himself among the shrubbery. Digging his feet in, His hand latches out, catching Frerin's just as he begins to fall. Frerin meets Thorin's hand with an Iron grip, gasping with terror. _

_"Thorin! Help me!" Frerin's eyes are wide with fear. _

_"Frerin! Hold onto me!" Thorin wildly shouts, he can feel the roots of the shrubs just beginning to give way. _

_He turns his head as far as he is able, calling for help. There is no answer. No Dwarf is on this road but the two Dwarflings. Frerin gazes down at the long drop before him and whimpers. _

_'Be strong. Don't let go. Be strong. Just hold on.' Thorin mentally repeats to himself over and over, praying for help. _

_"Frerin! I can't pull you up! You've got to help me!" Thorin urges his frightened brother. _

_"I can't!" Frerin's lip trembles. "Don't let me go!" _

_"I've got you Frerin! I'm not going to let go!" Thorin tightens his grip. He shouts for help again, still no answer. _

_"Can you dig your feet in Frerin?!" He shouts. _

_Frerin attempts to find a hold, but cannot among the loose stones and soil. Thorin gasps as Frerin's hand slowly begins to slip from his. _

_"Thorin!" Frerin shrieks, trying frantically to find something, anything to hold on to. _

_"NO!" Thorin yells. Frerin swings his other arm up in an attempt to catch Thorin's. It misses, flying wide. Shifting, Thorin wedges himself into the mountain, grabbing out with his other hand. He catches Frerin's arm, stopping it from slipping, and begins to pull his brother up. _

_Frerin feels like a heavy weight, slowly wrenching his arm out of its socket. Thorin's face is contorted with the exertion. A muscle in his arm protests, sending a searing pain through his arm. The sort of pulled muscle that will last for days. _

_'just a little longer! Keep going! Don't stop!' _

_With a gasp, he pulls his brother safely out of harm's way. Both the Dwarflings fall on their backs, panting in relief. Noisily pulling in lungfuls of air, the brothers are happy to be alive, and remain quiet and respectful in the face of near death. Frerin is the first to break the silence. _

_"Thanks." _

_Thorin smirks and lands a playful slap on his brother's shoulder. _

_"Teaches you to shove in races! You really owe me for this! You're lucky I don't tell!" _

_Frerin giggles, possibly in relief from his close shave with death. _

_Thorin suddenly adds on a more serious note, "You should try to be more careful you know. Really." _

_Frerin smirks, "That's what I have you for. To get me out of jams." _

_Thorin rolls his eyes, honestly. He could not be there all the time. _

_All the time..._

_All the time... _

_All the time..._

The memory faded as quickly as it had come, Thorin eyes snapped open. He had to keep going. He had to find the Halfling. Bilbo. Whatever it took. Back then in Erebor he had performed a deed far beyond his years and ability. Despite the odds he had saved his brother. With a strong look of purpose and determination he banished the memory. He would find Bilbo. He remembered Frerin's terrified features as they seemingly came before his eyes, swirling about and reminding him that he could and would hold on. Whatever it took. With a groan he pulled himself forward again, disappearing down the long and dark halls.


	16. Chapter 16

**DISCLAIMER: SAME AS EARLIER CHAPTAHS. DANKE. **

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Bilbo blinked as he saw the warm and cheery glow of a torch coming towards him. Standing up and coming close to the bars, he was barely able to make out the form of the creature holding it. It was small, smaller than he was, if that was possible. It wore plain garments, dark in color and easily blending in with the surroundings. The only bright color about it was its hair, being carrot red in color and having an ornately braided beard. The only sign of wealth about it were the few rings of metal separating strands of beard.

Coming close but keeping a look of suspicion, it raised the torch casting the light over the Hobbit and peering at it with bright and inquisitive eyes. It muttered something quietly to itself, staring at the Hobbit and looking a bit perplexed. In all its years it had never come across a creature such as our Burglar Baggins.

"Well?" Bilbo said a bit impatiently, when was it going to realize that he meant no harm and only wished to leave?

"Eh..." the small creature said finally, "You're no Orc. I know one when I see one."

Bilbo sighed in relief but the creature only furrowed his eyebrows as he continued his train of thought.

"Only question is," he said, "is if Hobbits exist. And if they do, are you even telling the truth?"

"But I am-" The Hobbit protested, but was interrupted by the small person.

"And even that doesn't tell me whether you mean harm or not. You could be lying."

"Look," The Hobbit replied with some vexation, "I am Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, member of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. All I want now, is to leave. Please open this ca-trap?"

The red-haired creature chuckled, seeing Bilbo remember its preference for the name of said prison. It placed the torch in a convenient place on the wall, and returning to the Hobbit sat down comfortably with a sigh. This would be an interesting conversation, which did not happen all that often in this part of the world. It crossed its small arms, which though diminutive in size showed an impressive amount of muscle, for our creature was not an idle one and worked hard. The Hobbit was disrupting his schedule terribly it was true, but then again perhaps a break from work would not go amiss. He had precious little as it was, and though he did not say it, he welcomed the distraction. He remained silent and did not answer the Halfling's question, purposely shaping his features to have a rather fierce expression, and waiting to see how the Hobbit would react.

Bilbo however did not scare easily, and sensing the creature's game sighed in exasperation.

"What are you anyway?" Bilbo asked, "Are you a Dwarf?" Indeed, the creature both in build and looks appeared much like Bilbo's companions. The Hobbit looked at it expectantly for an answer of some sort.

The creature snorted at this, and Bilbo took it as a no.

"Alright." said Bilbo slowly, "Not a Dwarf...What are you then? I mean..no offense, but you do look like one. Very much so."

"An' you look like an Elf." The creature growled out the word as if it had a bad taste and continued, "An' why should I tell you?"

"Well..." said Bilbo slowly, choosing his words with care, "I'm not exactly going anywhere, and I am curious."

The small person's face took an expression of pleasure at the word curiosity, sensing a game. Crossing his arms again and looking very solemn he spoke.

"Guess."

"What?!" Bilbo said, looking horrified at the prospect of losing yet more time.

"You heard me. Guess!"

The Hobbit looked long and hard, running over in his mind all the different peoples of Middle Earth that he had ever heard about. Checking them off one by one, he finally narrowed it down to two, and neither seemed very likely.

"Well...The only creatures that I know of that you resemble at all are Dwarves and Hobbits. I would go with Dwarf but yo-" he was interrupted here.

"Not a Dwarf." It said triumphantly.

"I can't think of anything else then." The Hobbit shrugged, showing he had lost the game.

The red-haired and very Dwarvish-looking creature tapped his booted foot for a few moments waiting, and finally burst out.

"I'm a Petty-Dwarf simpleton!"

Bilbo eyes widened. _A Petty-Dwarf?!_But Thorin had said they had all died out...

Seeing Bilbo's wonder the creature chuckled, but then looked thoughtful as the reason came to him for the Hobbit's ignorance.

"Although..." it said with some solemnity, "there are precious few of us left. I think I might be the last one. 'round here anyways." His face took on a look unhappiness, and Bilbo thought, a tired loneliness. Was that why the creature was taking so long and talking so much?

"I'm sorry." Bilbo offered, the Petty-Dwarf merely nodded in reply. They were both silent for a few moments until Bilbo attempted to strike up the conversation again.

"How long have you been on your own?" He asked quietly.

The Petty-Dwarf gazed upwards into the Hobbit's face and answered without flinching, "29 years, this Summer'll make it 30."

"Long time." Bilbo nodded in sympathy. 30 years? 30 years alone in this dark forgotten place, inhabited by ghosts and one small Dwarf...The Hobbit shuddered to think of it. It was a wonder this Petty-Dwarf had not gone mad.

"Aye." The Dwarf said sadly, with a distinct tone of bitterness, "It is."

Bilbo shifted, he knew little of Dwarves, and less still of Petty-Dwarves. But if it was a Petty-Dwarf, surely it would be similar to Dwarves...

Fumbling a little with the words he replied to the little fellow and introduced himself in the queer way Dwarves seemed to like. If there is one thing that Dwarves appreciate, it is manners.

"Y-you have my deepest sympathy...I am very sorry for your loss." awkwardly he gave a little bow, "Bilbo Baggins of Hobbiton, at your service and your family's."

This show put an amused smile of the Petty-Dwarf's face, it had been long since he had heard those familiar words. He chuckled and bowed back.

"Honored I am sure." The Petty-Dwarf replied properly.

"Oh.." He said, furrowing his eyebrows as he remembered something, "Now I suppose I have to tell you my name. Or I'll come across as rude...Very well then." Straightening himself and looking quite dignified he continued.

"I am Noeg, son of Nibin, of the Faindal family. Although you probably have no idea what I'm talking about."

"I am honored to make your acquaintance Noeg, son of Nibin." Bilbo answered, extending his hand through the bars in true Hobbit fashion.

Noeg looked very pleased at this show of friendship, and extended his own hand giving Mr. Baggin's a hearty shake.

"It's been a long time," he mused, "since I shook a hand of flesh and blood. You're familiar with Dwarvish ways I see Mr. Baggins, and the name of your company also sound Dwarvish. Am I correct in presuming you are or were traveling with Dwarves?"

"Yes," The Hobbit nodded in agreement, "That's right."

Noeg gave the Hobbit one last good stare, trying to read his face, and then with a sigh gave in. Perhaps it was the prospect of someone to talk to, or perhaps he was finally satisfied with the Hobbit's story. At any rate he began circling the cage, much to Bilbo's surprise.

"What are you doing?" The Hobbit asked.

"Tryin' to figure out how this old thing works." The Dwarf answered. "I've never opened one y' see. One false move and I might kill you."

"What?! Kill me?!" The Hobbit gulped, while he felt an uncomfortable mixture of confusion and distress. "You've never even opened one?!"

Noeg shrugged. "No. Never. You're lucky I came by here though. It isn't my usual route. I wouldn't have come back here for at least five days, and by then you'd be dead. Only reason I came here at all is because my usual road caved in. Bad for me, remarkably good for you."

"Caved in?!" The Hobbit was felt his heart thump against his chest as a feeling of panic rose in him.

"Yeah, that's the way of it. Old halls. No one cares for them. I can't by myself you know, bein' one fellow and all. So they fall in on themselves. Happens all the time."

"All the time?" Bilbo squeaked in fright.

"Aye. Shouldn't wonder if this bit fell in on us." The Dwarf began tapping the walls listening for the hollow place that would contain the gears of the trap. Bilbo however found this all a little much, and without another word sat very still indeed in the very middle of the trap. At what he considered the safest place to be, as he glanced about wildly for any cracks to grow from the floor and reach out hungrily towards him.

"You shouldn't be so nervous Mr. Baggins!" Noeg laughed as he worked. "I was born and raised in these halls, and I'm not dead am I?"

"Yes well," Bilbo answered, "You're a Dwarf. You're used to this sort of thing."

"Petty-Dwarf." Noeg corrected, "Dwarves and Petty-Dwarves are as different as peas and apples."

"Right, Petty-Dwarves." Bilbo repeated, "But fact is that you're still used to this! I'm not. And the sooner I get out of here the better."

"You won't be leaving too soon will you?" Noeg asked, with almost a wistful look on his face.

Bilbo, remembering the look of loneliness he had seen earlier, and thinking of how empty this place felt without another person, amended his earlier statement.

"No...I suppose not right away."

"Good!" Noeg grinned, "We can have tea or something."

"Oh, well I have a friend up a level that I need to check on..." The Hobbit said.

"Well he can come too." Noeg answered, "So long as he isn't an Elf."

Bilbo furrowed his brow, why was there so much hate among Dwarves for Elves? First Thorin, and now Noeg. Bilbo could not possibly fathom what Noeg had against the Elves, he seemed a cheery enough fellow, and goodness knows he had little enough chance to talk with them.

"No." Bilbo said slowly, "He isn't an Elf. He's a Dwarf."

"Oh?" Said Noeg, becoming more interested, "Longbeard? Stonefist? Broadbeam? Firebeard? What family?"

"Longbeard I think."

"Oho! Well I am honored. One of Durin's people under my roof!" Noeg seemed deeply amused by this fact, "There was a time you know, when my people would have nothing to do with them. But time and fate has bounced me about that I am that desperate for company. So I will suffer him, but whether or not he will suffer me remains to be seen."

"Oh, I think Thorin will!" Bilbo said, silently praying that Thorin would. Thorin seemed to hold on to the old grudges more than most, and there was obviously some bad blood between Petty Dwarves and their larger brothers.

"Thorin? Interesting name. Means bravery of the heart and something to do with Thunder. I forget what. Wonder what his real name is. You do know that isn't his real name right?"

"What?" said Bilbo, confused.

"Thorin isn't his real name. Dwarves have an interesting custom of never telling anyone but their own people their real names. The name Thorin is the one he goes by to outsiders." The Petty Dwarf paused in his work for a moment, "You know, they don't even put them on their tombstones? Imagine that!"

"Is Noeg your real name?" The Hobbit raised his eyebrows, Dwarves were indeed peculiar. What did it gain someone to hide their real name?

"Bless you!" Noeg laughed, " 'course it is! We Petty-Dwarves don't hide them."

"Then why do Dwarves?" Bilbo wrinkled his forehead in puzzlement.

Noeg shrugged. "That I don't know. It's a tradition really, and considered bad manners to just blurt your name out. Least that's what my Dad told me."

"Odd." Bilbo mused, Noeg cracked up at this.

"I agree with that Mr. Baggins! I do indeed!" There was silence for a few moments save for the sound of Noeg's labor against the ancient Dwarf structure. He grinned in satisfaction as he tapped and found the desired hollow place in the wall, taking a hammer and chisel he struck it square, sending shards of stone about. The stone had been very thin, and cunningly placed over in order to conceal its secrets.

"Uh, Noeg?" Bilbo suddenly asked.

"Hmm?" The Petty Dwarf answered, his voice muffled by the chisel he held in his mouth.

"My friend. Thorin."

"What about him?" Noeg asked without looking away from his work.

"He's sick, and in a very bad way."

Turning Noeg asked the Hobbit, "Sick is he? What happened?"

"He got in a fight with an Orc. Got a dagger in his side, he said it was nothing but a scratch but I really don't think so." Bilbo could not help the worry from his voice, "I think he might die unless he gets attention. And soon."

Noeg nodded. "Well." he said slowly, "I have a little experience in healing. I can see if I can help your friend, if he'll let me."

"Thank you!" Bilbo exclaimed, "You don't know how much this means to me!"

Noeg smiled sadly and nodded. In the years he had lived here he had had very few friends indeed, and they were mostly his siblings. But one by one they had all gone, leaving him alone in these now empty halls. Even now he could see their faces as vividly as when they had been alive. He knew what it was like to lose a friend.

"Here we are!" Noeg exclaimed, pulling a chunk of stone out and discarding it, he revealed an old and worn lever.

"I don't know if it'll work or not. But I hope so, seeing as that" he gestured towards the trap, "has no door, this has got to be the answer. Either that..." He fell silent.

"What?!" Bilbo prodded.

"or it'll kill you. As it is a trap for enemies." Noeg look grim. "Are you ready?"

Bilbo took a gulp. It was now or never. He nodded, "I'm ready. Go."


	17. Chapter 17

**DISCLAIMER: SAME AS BEFORE, SEE EARLIER CHAPTAHS. DANKE. **

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"Bilbo!" Noeg coughed, waving his hand in an effort to banish the thick dust from the air about him. Slowly, as the dust settled down Noeg peered into the darkness he was able to make out a shape. The Dwarf gasped as he beheld a pile of old wood, stone, and rubble. What had he done?!

"Mr. Baggins!" he shouted, dashing to the pile and digging furiously as he tossed pieces of wood to the side. Of course he hadn't been exactly sure whether the lever would work in the way it had been meant to, but to collapse the trap entirely? What had his forefathers been thinking when they built it? These things were supposed to last!

Finding a hairy foot he was able to uncover a bruised and battered (but very much alive and annoyed) hobbit. Bilbo coughed and shook his head sharply in an effort to relieve his itching face from the dirt. With a strong heave, Noeg was able to pull the Hobbit to his feet, and dusted the dazed Halfling off very politely. Bilbo however, was too irritated to be grateful.

"There!" Noeg grinned, "Good as new! I knew you were a tough one, moment I clapped eyes on you!" The Petty Dwarf appeared very proud of his rescue.

"What-" Bilbo wheezed, "w-were you thinking?! Pulling random things?!"

"Well don't blame me!" The Petty Dwarf retorted, "It isn't as if it's my fault! I can hardly be expected to keep this place in tip-top condition!"

"You nearly killed me!" The Hobbit barked, rubbing his now very sore head.

"I could have killed you with less difficulty by just shooting you with a single arrow, then risk my entire home! Anyhow, if I had wanted you dead you would be right now!" The Dwarf glared up at the tall Hobbit, scowling with a surprising fierceness for his size and daring Bilbo to disagree. Bilbo glared back with equal fierceness, he was now very tired of Dwarves in general, Petty or otherwise.

But what was perhaps even more surprising, was that Noeg began fighting a smile that was beginning to turn the corners of his mouth, and then began to laugh out loud. Bilbo watched the Dwarf with confusion written upon his face. What was it playing at now?

"Dear me!" Noeg chuckled, "You've made me lose my reputation now!"

"What?" Bilbo was completely bewildered by the Petty Dwarf's mirth.

"My reputation." Noeg explained, "I've not had a single argument in a good many years, probably the least quarrelsome creature in these parts. And here you come, blundering along and making me lose it! Now I'll have to start all over again eh?" He slapped Bilbo on the back, with an unexpected strength that nearly knocked our tall (at least when compared with the Dwarf) Burglar over.

A rumble sounded ominously through the room, causing both creatures to look up nervously.

"Eh..." Noeg began, "I think we ought to be leaving. Tea wasn't it?"

"Hm-" Bilbo began, "oh! Oh yes!" he hastily nodded his head in agreement. He did not like the looks of this room now anymore than he had when he first entered. The collapse of the trap had very likely weakened the structure. At any rate, neither creature fancied the idea of staying.

"Come on." said the Petty Dwarf, turning suddenly and walking very quickly towards the exit, leaving Mr. Baggins still staring at the roof. With a start Bilbo realized the Dwarf was leaving.

"Hey!" Bilbo called, "Wait for me!" He ran after the Dwarf, tripping once on a stone but catching his balance before he could fall. Bilbo could hear the Dwarf's amused chuckle at his clumsiness.

"Come on snail legs!"

"Snail legs?!" The Hobbit demanded, but this was only followed by more laughter.

The Hobbit and the Petty Dwarf traveled for many long hours down the corridors in a very confusing pattern. They were deep under the earth, and many of the passages had become treacherous with age. There were a few passages that the two came to, but something did not seem right to the Dwarf, he would soon stop them. Testing the ground and listening carefully as the Hobbit watched in partial fascination. If the Dwarf was satisfied with whatever it was he found, they would continue. If not, then they would discard that particular way in favor of another. It was a long and tedious process, and the rejections of certain tunnels did nothing to make Bilbo at ease.

Noeg was a talkative fellow, and would only become silent when deciding which passages to take. He would speak on any topic, and Bilbo discovered a good amount of information in this way. It seemed that Noeg had been the youngest son of a family of five, accompanied by his bachelor uncle who had a rare interest in pocket watches, and had had quite an extensive collection. Arguably the finest collection in all Middle Earth.

Besides talking about himself, Noeg was interested in Bilbo and his country. He expressed great interest in the sleepy little Shire, and asked many questions. Questions about Hobbits, their customs, and anything obscure such as what they did for a quiet Sunday afternoon. As many questions that Noeg asked however, Bilbo had double the amount. The Hobbit was somewhat pleased that finally, he had found someone who was not easily irritated by his many questions. In fact Noeg seemed to enjoy them.

"One thing that puzzles me," Noeg said, "about Hobbits that is." The Petty Dwarf glanced down at Bilbo's feet, causing the Hobbit to shift uncomfortably. Was there something wrong with them? True, he had been unable to brush them for a long while, but then again he had not really had a moment to tend to it.

"Beggin' your pardon, and hoping I cause no offense. But curiosity's got the best of me as they say." Noeg continued.

"What's wrong with my feet?" Bilbo asked, somewhat worried that they appeared ghastly.

Noeg coughed, trying to think of the best way to word his thoughts. "Well..." he began slowly, "couldn't help but notice..." He whispered as if it was a private matter between the Hobbit and himself, "But your feet. You don't wear boots. At all. Of any kind."

Bilbo nodded slowly, "Yes, that's so." He was partially relieved that there was evidently nothing wrong with his feet, but the Dwarf's question puzzled him all the same.

"But-well...running around all the time, over hill and stone and goodness knows what else...don't they.." Bilbo raised an eyebrow as the Dwarf searched for the words, "Don't they ever bruise or hurt or anything?" It was a legitimate question, although the fact was commonly accepted without question by most.

"Oh." Said Bilbo, caught somewhat off guard, "Uh, no. I don't suppose they do. Not yet anyways. Too tough I guess." The Hobbit chuckled, he had not exactly thought of it before that it might seem odd to others.

"Must be nice." Noeg mused, "Ah! Here we are!" He pointed to an oak door in the wall of the mountain and little distance away.

"Unfortunately, from the place you fell, we have to take a long route to get back up to the upper level. Through my home. Other wing has become a bit dangerous of late. This here is the safest place in this entire settlement. We can grab a bite to eat I suppose, and I can get what I need to help your friend. I don't know about you but I'm famished."

Reaching for his belt, the little fellow pulled out a ring of keys, fumbling with them until he found the desired key. Placing it into the lock on the door, he turned it. The gears in the lock creaked loudly, but gave a satisfying click as it opened. Pushing open the door he gave another queer bow to Bilbo, beckoning the Hobbit to enter.

"Welcome Mr. Baggins, to my humble abode."

Meaning that the Hobbit should make himself at home, Noeg gestured to one of the twin seats by the merrily burning logs in the fireplace while he trotted off to his larder. Bilbo sat down with a grateful sigh. Granted, the chair was meant for someone smaller than he was, but he found himself still able to fit in it comfortably. Between the two chairs stood an old marble table, small enough to set a cup of tea or a pipe on and still be able to read comfortably. The house was of a plain sort, but of a cheerful nature. A few ancient roots grew through parts of the wall, and had been cunningly twisted in order to hold numerous objects. From what Bilbo could see, there were many books of all sorts in great, dark, oaken shelves. Clearly this Dwarf enjoyed many pastimes that Bilbo himself enjoyed. The Mantlepiece was a deep black, having ornate edges and columns reaching from it to the floor in a most elegant manner. there was no object on it save for a pipe and a small black case of leather. The walls were ancient, but well cawere well cared for and as clean as any Hobbit could wish.

Bilbo's sharp senses could hear Noeg running back and forth in his kitchen, most likely wondering what it was that Hobbits liked to eat. Within a few moments he came out bearing a tray with tea and numerous edibles upon it, setting it down on the small table between the seats.

"I'm afraid I don't have milk, bit hard to come by round here. But I have a good supply of sugar." The Dwarf apologized.

"Don't apologize." Bilbo said, "I don't take milk in my tea anyway."

"Oh?" Noeg chuckled, "Well that's good. 'Cause I don't either."

Bilbo could not help but wonder at the food on the tray. Where on earth did Noeg come by it?

"Noeg?" he began.

"Hmm?" The Dwarf answered between a sip of tea.

"I can't help but wonder...The food, the tea, how do you come by it? I mean, living on your own, it must be difficult to get it."

"Oh well, I gather most of it from the woods. There's enough to support a good many out there. I hunt, gather, the usual. I also have a hidden garden of sorts," The Dwarf shrugged at this, "Not very pretty to look at, but it does the job. I'm able to support myself, so I doubt I could ask for more."

"Must be a lot of hard work." The Hobbit mused.

"Aye. It is. But it keeps me busy. And it keeps my mind off of other things. Thinking too much 'round here," the Dwarf shuddered, "Isn't that good of a thing."

Before Bilbo could answer he yelped as he suddenly felt something warm and hairy crawl along the edge of his neck. Jumping up with surprising agility, he turned to see who or what had invaded his personal space.

A small creature with great amounts of black hair, curiously resembling a badger, sat on the back of Bilbo's chair. Large chocolate eyes gazed back at the Hobbit. It slunk down and settled itself comfortably among the cushions in Bilbo's seat, giving out what sounded like a cross between a purr and a squeak. The creature had little to speak of for a tail, but seemed to be oblivious to what it lacked. Large blunt claws for digging decorated its paws, and a sharp snout stuck out from its face. It stretched its dark body, yawning to reveal many pointed and yellow teeth in its mouth.

"Is, is that a badger?" Bilbo asked nervously, he had heard tales of the ferocity.

"Aye, that's a badger. Although its a type that doesn't come up to the surface often, so few see it. Don't worry, he's friendly. Hangs about hoping to earn some scraps. Bit like a dog actually." Noeg answered, getting up and dumping it out of the chair and shooing it into another room.

Bilbo then sat down carefully, afraid that more of the creatures kin might be about. Noeg sensing his discomfort chuckled.

"Don't worry Mr. Baggins. They don't bite, I only let the friendly ones in. That one there was one I raised myself. So I can vouch for his good behavior." The Petty Dwarf settled himself back in the chair.

"Are there," Bilbo began, "A lot of creatures like that underground?"

Noeg laughed at this, "Are there? I should say there are! But you have to know where to look. They don't like strangers you see. There's a lot besides them living 'round here. So they have a good right to be cautious. Anything that has sense is in these parts."

"Like what?" Bilbo asked eagerly. It had never crossed his mind that there might be actual creatures that lived underground save for Goblins and Dwarves. This was a completely new idea that fascinated him.

With an amused smile, Noeg launched into a vivid narrative, telling of the different creatures he had run into on different occasions. The Hobbit listened with deep interest, oblivious to everything else as Noeg told of life beneath the Earth. The Dwarf spoke of wondrous sights and marvels that were the stuff of dreams. So brilliant were the Dwarf's words and descriptions, that the Hobbit almost wished to see them for himself.

What followed was perhaps one of the most enjoyable hours that Bilbo had experienced on the entire journey. Noeg proved himself to be one that enjoyed a good conversation, although this was possibly because he had been without one for so long. At any rate, it was not until the hour had passed that Bilbo remembered Thorin.

"Sorry, but how long have I been here?" Bilbo asked, shifting in the chair.

"Oh, about an hour." Noeg replied, "Odd though, that one fairly flew by didn't it?"

"An hour!" Bilbo squeaked, as he realized that if Thorin had not been awake while he had been in the trap, then he was definitely awake now. If Bilbo in any way knew Thorin, he could bet that the Dwarf would very likely be looking for him.

"I'm sorry!" Bilbo jumped up from the chair, "But I really have to find my friend!"

"Alright, alright!" Noeg said, getting up as well, "Just let me grab a few things will you? Then we'll be on our way."

The Petty Dwarf trotted off once more into the back, leaving Bilbo pacing nervously by the fire. Of all the stupid things! Why hadn't he paid any attention to the time?! Thorin might be dead for all he knew, looking for _him_, and it would be all Bilbo's fault.

"Thorin, for goodness sake stay where you are." Bilbo muttered anxiously. "I only hope we can find you, and soon. Blast it all, I've messed this up terribly, yet again."

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"Gandalf!" Fili exclaimed, "Look! More blood! And no orc's I would guess!" The young Dwarf pointed to a number of the crimson drops that had fallen lightly on the leaves. The older wizard came to Fili's side with a huff, muttering quietly as he bent the stalks of the surrounding plants back in order to get a better view.

"Quite right Fili." The Wizard said quietly.

Kili came striding into the glen, having gone on a little scouting expedition of his own a short distance ahead. Finding nothing, he had decided to return to his comrades.

"Gandalf. Fili." He nodded in greeting. The other two however, ignored him. Or rather Gandalf was too deep in thought and Fili was watching the wizard think.  
"What's so interesting?" Kili asked, cocking his head and striding over to see what the commotion was about.

It was not until Kili's large boots crunched in the leaves next to them that the other Dwarf and Wizard noticed his presence.

"Ah, Kili." Said Gandalf looking up, "I thought we had agreed to no more wandering off?" The wizard raised a bushy eyebrow, expecting an answer from the dark haired Dwarf.

"Uh-yes. That..." Kili stumbled, thinking of an excuse, "Well I heard something you see..."

"You heard something?" The Wizard stated incredulously, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"And-uh, I had to...had to-investigate!" Kili finished.

The Wizard merely raised an eyebrow in answer, turning back to Fili and muttering something.

Kili's curious eyes glanced over what Fili had found, and gave a loud gasp as he realized what it was. Fili turned with an annoyed look and frowned. Gandalf did the same.

"You don't suppose they're badly wounded do you Gandalf?" The young Dwarf questioned the Wizard.

"Oh no, I don't think so Kili," The Wizard replied sarcastically, "Or else we might have found numerous such signs, which you might have noticed had you been paying attention and not investigating sounds!" The wizard barked out the last bit sharply, causing Kili to jump.

"I'm sorry Gandalf!" Kili said in a small voice.

The wizard frowned darkly, but relented with a sigh. "I forgive you Kili. But for goodness sake stay sharp! Bilbo and Thorin's lives could well be at stake!"

Kili nodded, "I promise I shall do better Gandalf."

"Very well." The Wizard said, "Let us hope so."

The Wizard then beckoned to Fili as he began trudging forward once more, leading them farther into the woods.. The Dwarf came and walked beside Kili, nudging him with an elbow and giving him a friendly grin which Kili gratefully returned.

"So what did you find?" Kili shouldered his pack, looking at his older brother.

"Nothing good." Fili said grimly. "Blood. But not an Orc's. Which can only mean one thing."

"That either Bilbo or Thorin have been injured, and bad enough to leave tell-tale signs." Kili finished solemnly. "Is there anyway of telling how bad exactly?"

"Not that I know of," Fili answered, "I'm just starting to get the hang of this whole tracking business."

"Well I hope they're alright. I really do." Kili could not keep the anxiety from his voice. "Uncle's not well...you know...as young as he used to be."

"Ooh, he'd skin you alive if he heard that!" Fili chuckled.

Kili grinned mischievously, "Well he's not here. That's the whole point. I can say what I want."

"Oh no you can't!" Fili grinned, slapping the side of his brother's head playfully, "I promised mother I'd keep you in check. And I intend to."

"Ow!" Kili rubbed his head and smirked, "You're always hitting me you know that?"

"Or saving you." Fili finished. "Think the count's up to fifteen times so far."

"That last one doesn't count! We saved each other there." Kili protested with a chuckle.

The two Dwarves laughed long, but soon fell silent after this, following the grey clad wizard before them. The sun had begun to set, and yet another day was nearly over. The scene was quite a peaceful one, with the sunbeams falling softlyd upon the leaf covered forest floor, with particles flowing in and out of them like pieces of gold. A Raven screamed at the travelers, startling all three with its throaty cry. With a screech it rose and flew far away into the distance.

"I hope they're alright." Kili whispered worriedly to Fili once more.


	18. Chapter 18

**DISCLAIMER: SAME AS BEFORE, SEE EARLER CHAPTAHS. DANKE. **

**Hullo everyone! Sorry I took so long uploading this, life got a bit crazy for a while. Argh. Well, here's the next bit! Hope you all enjoy! Don't forget to review & comment! :)**

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"Bilbo!" Thorin called loudly, grimacing as his body shot out fresh waves of pain at the exertion.

Blast it all. Where in all of fair Arda was the Hobbit? The caverns echoed eerily back at him as his deep voice was carried far away into the darkness. He had searched for what seemed hours, and there was no sign of the Burglar. _His Burglar. _The one Gandalf had _insisted_ they take along. The one that was proving to be worth far less then what the dwarves were paying. Of course, of all the people in this world, only Bilbo could manage to lose himself so hopelessly. It was at times like these that Thorin questioned Gandalf's wisdom in bringing the Halfling along.

He stiffened as he heard a sound, listening intently. He could not risk a fight, not in his condition. Who knows what creatures dwelt in these caverns? Glancing slowly about, he was satisfied that the sound had been nothing to be concerned again. His breathing came out loud and labored, and the Dwarf winced at the sound. The caverns were bare and cold, but Thorin felt as if he were burning. He had to find Bilbo, get out of these cursed caves, and then find the company. He had a very uncomfortable amount of finding to be done, and Thorin had never been very good at this skill. The Hobbit was by no means making this an easy task.

Walking seemed to do him some good, as the nausea was not quite so strong as it had been earlier. Perhaps the heightened blood flow was responsible, or perhaps it was because the Dwarf was more occupied with the stinging barbs of pain coming from his wound. No matter, as soon as he found the Hobbit they could be on their way. The sooner the better.

But, a gnawing doubt had been growing up in him. Was he even going to walk away from this? He could feel how his body was slowly succumbing to whatever poison he suffered from, it would not be much longer. He had no idea how much longer he had. At the least he would need two more days to reach the designated place in which he hoped to meet the company. Time was short.

He growled to himself. He would probably not even be in this position had he been lucky enough to have been lost with anyone else, but fate had given him Mr. Baggins. The other Dwarves would not be so foolish as to wander away, they knew the importance of staying together. Mr. Baggins on the other hand seemed to leave whenever it suited him, and did not seem to learn frolearn from the consequences.

His bad luck had all started when they had become separated from the company. An Orc raid on the camp had thrown everything into chaos, with the Dwarves attempting to regroup while fleeing the Orcs. With no losses, save perhaps their dignity, they had managed to put some distance between themselves and the Orcs. Thorin, upon looking about found that they had left the Burglar behind, again. He had turned back and crashed through the foliage only to find the Hobbit looking utterly forlorn with a few bruises on his face. Barking sharply he had ordered the Hobbit to follow him to catch up with the others, and the poor fellow had only been too willing to follow him anywhere if it only meant getting away from that place.

They had run on for hours, unable to discover the whereabouts of the others and finding themselves the Orc's new targets. Bilbo had found it quite difficult to keep up with the Dwarf Lord, but he had forced himself and had managed fairly well despite the difficulties. Dwarves can go at a great pace when pressed, and there are few that can compare in their speed and endurance. Hobbits on the other hand, run rarely, and this only when late for a meal. The two travelers had been lucky to escape with their lives. Not all who had traveled that way could boast the same. Thorin's luck however, had recently taken a bad turn, and was slowly but surely running out.

Although Thorin was quite angry with the Hobbit, and had a good right to be so, he was also very worried. He did not like to think of anyone dying alone in these caves. The Hobbit could easily become lost in them, or worse find himself trapped somewhere. Either fate promised a slow and painful death. Thorin knew well that halls that had been empty as long as these, would only be treacherous to the living. There were many horrible stories told of monsters and tragedies in old mines. He shuddered, remembering a particularly gruesome tale his cousin had told him long ago in their childhood about a mythical beast with great size and eyes burning like coals. Claws it had to match the greatest of spears, and teeth to splinter the keenest of swords. But of course it was no more than a childhood tale used to frighten Dwarflings from wandering off on their own. He doubted there was any truth to such a story.

_Lord Durgol smiled from beneath his snowy white beard as Dis and her brother clamored for yet another tale of wonder. His eyes twinkled seeing how deeply enthralled young Frerin was._

_"Do you know a scary one?" he asked wide-eyed. _

_Chuckling, the old fellow answered, "Do I? Young Lord Frerin, I'm surprised you have so little faith in me!" _

_"Tell me one!" Frerin begged. "Please!"_

_Thorin smiled from his corner and rolled his eyes. He sincerely doubted that Durgol's imagination could come up with anything nearly scary enough to frighten him. he gave out a snort a Frerin's request, and Dis shot him a warning glare. _

_"Well," Durgal slowly said, stroking his great beard, "There is one that I know. But I think it might be too frightening of a tale for you." _

_"Oh no!" Frerin and Dis said in unison. _

_"We're brave!" Dis declared. _

_"I don't frighten easily at all!" Frerin added. _

_The storyteller raised an eyebrow mysteriously, "Very well then." he said, folding his arms and leaning back in his seat. "If it becomes scary, you go ahead and tell me." _

_"Nothing frightens me!" Frerin smirked. Durgol laughed. _

_"Well said lad! If only we were all as brave as you!" _

_"The story!" Dis reminded. _

_"Oh alright then. This tale has its beginnings back in the ancient days..." _

_Thorin shifted into a more comfortable position in order to listen. Although he would not admit it, Durgol was a master at his art. Weaving the words so finely and saying them with such animation completely enthralled his listeners in any tale. This was no different than with the Dwarflings, even Thorin found himself captivated by the story. Durlog launched into a bone chilling narrative, causing the children to gasp in fear with horror of the foul beast he described. The Gurgbuzal._

_Thorin shuddered at the end of the tale. Rising to take Frerin and Dis home. He was perhaps only thirteen at this time, but considered himself his siblings' caretaker. _

_Thorin did not think of the mythical beast again until he was walking the dark streets with his siblings on the short walk home. Every shadow seemed to grin with great rows of teeth, rising in order to pounce on the children. Thorin walked cautiously, glancing in back of himself every now and then to make sure they were not followed. Frerin and Dis discussed the story with great enthusiasm. _

_"And it swallowed eight full grown Dwarves in battle armor whole!" Frerin said, waving his hand as if to further drive the point. _

_Dis gasped, "I didn't like that part. I thought it was stupid of them to charge it like that. They should have done something clever." _

_Frerin grinned, "That's what makes it a good story Dis! The Gurgbuzal ate them all, teeth crunching-" _

_Thorin, sensing where Frerin was going with this decided to interrupt. _

_"Frerin! Stop it!" He said, frowning. The picture in his head was a gruesome one, and it did not help that the monster was supposedly most active on nights like this with a full moon. He shuddered. _

_"HA!" Frerin crowed, "You're just scared!" _

_"I am not!" Thorin retorted sharply. "You're scaring Dis." _

_"He was not!" Dis turned on her brother furiously. _

_"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Frerin interrupted, loudly shouting the words out on purpose and causing Thorin and Dis to become petrified with fear. Seeing their faces was too much for Frerin, who began giggling. _

_"You should just see yourselves! You're scared stiff!" Frerin laughed. "After all, it's just make believe. It's not as if anything like that could ever happen." _

_A clatter was suddenly heard from behind the trio, who all turned sharply looking terrified. A wooden bucket rolled out and stopped by their feet, causing the Dwarflings to look at it and then back to the source again. A queer moaning was heard. _

_"Did any of you do that?" Thorin asked quietly, eyes wide. _

_"N-n-no!" Frerin stuttered. _

_Dis whimpered, "Let's go home Thorin!" _

_The moaning grew louder, accompanied now by a queer gurgling sound. A large and hairy shadow began to take shape on the wall, and two clear sets of tusk stuck from its lumpy face. Just as Durgol described the Gurgbuzal. _

_"It's the Gurgbuzal!" Frerin squeaked in dismay. _

_Without further ado, the royal trio turned and raced as fast as their legs could carry them. They did not stop until they were well within the palace, when they were stopped and questioned sternly by Thror himself. Who was very upset indeed at having nearly been bowled over by his young heirs. _

_But back to where the moaning had been heard, now came the sound of laughter. Three older Dwarflings, perhaps in their twenties were grinning at the success of their prank. Durgol's youngest son grinned with satisfaction as his comrades slapped him on the back in congratulations. The sounds he had made had truly been exquisite. _

Thorin shivered. The air suddenly felt very cold. Worse still, he could almost swear the shadows were moving whenever he turned his back. Glaring at them he growled, as he marched resolutely onwards. The dark gloom seemed to envelope him like a great blanket, as the shapes seemed to dance in mockery at his efforts to find the Hobbit that refused to be found. The ancient carvings and runes on the smooth walls seemed to stare down at him cold sense of reproach for disturbing their slumber, unconcerned with his troubles.

It was then that Thorin actually began to feel that he missed the Hobbit, and his senseless chattering and constant bumbling. The lonely forsaken aura of the old halls and their complete emptiness made him only more aware of it. The great extent of these rooms and passages that should have housed the laughter of children, now housed only ghosts of a long gone age. A crumbling and aged book that lay in a dirty corner was only a grim reminder of the past and its golden dreams.

Without even meaning to, he found himself thinking once more on Erebor. The great splendor of its peak rising out of the land about like a majestic spiral of gold. The lands about green and flourishing, only adding to the Mountain Kingdom's glory. He could almost feel the fresh wind of the cool mountain air, with its purifying touch. The proud banners, unfurled and displaying their symbols to all from their great and strong towers, that rose from the mountain like so many pinnacles of strength. The laughter of the children echoed along the streets and seemed to be of a fairy quality, of a by gone day whose like would never grace this world again. Eagles soared through the sky magnificently, bearing themselves with such state and serenity. The memory seemed far away, as if it could not be touched by mortals and was but a dream. A dream that had once existed, that despite the many calamaties his people had suffered, here was a beacon of hope. Here, the future would be shaped anew.

Thorin gazed with new awe on the resplendent archways and intricate designs of the halls that had housed a people so like his own. They too, had hoped to build a golden future. They too, had fought against the darkness that sought to destroy them. But they had failed. All that now remained to stand testimony of their efforts were the ruins of a once proud people.

Would his people share the same fate as the Petty Dwarves? Would they fade away into the pages of time, never to be seen or heard from again? Thorin did not know. They were scattered. Leaderless. Without hope of a new dawn. The once mighty house of Durin had been brought down so low, that the Kings of old now earned their bread working at a forge for those that despised them. Every great house and treasure had been taken from them. Their people were now like so many leaves on the wind. Was there any hope? Perhaps. Like far off Erebor, it shimmered as the weakest ray of sunlight. It was in Erebor that their hope lay, to rebuild the dream of their forefathers. To make into reality what they had hoped for.

The Khazâd, his people, looked to him as their only hope of a better future. Their King in all but name. Their hope lay with the Line of Durin, unbroken from the beginning of days despite the Dark Lord's hate. They would continue, as they always had, and lead the Dwarves like the Lords of old. The burden of this duty lay heavily with Thorin.

But how could this all be achieved if that bumbling Burglar did not take care to keep himself from getting lost? Thorin frowned. If anything, The Hobbit certainly knew how to keep hidden and make things difficult.

The Dwarf suddenly tensed as he felt the low moanings of the earth. Inaudible to Man or Elven (and Hobbit) ears and senses, Dwarves were attuned to the sounds and warnings the ground gives, able to tell easily the safety of a situation. While any other creature would more than likely miss the signs of such danger, Dwarves are particularly sensitive to it. Everything in Thorin screamed for caution as he felt the creaking and protesting rocks. Something was not right.

Gingerly, he placed a foot forward. It would not do for any rash moves now; he had to find Bilbo. The soil seemed to groan but held, as he cautiously inched his way forward. Farther ahead he was able to make out a shape, which seemed to grow larger the closer he came to it.

With a gasp, he realized it was an ugly pit lined with a wooden mechanism that operated a sort of trap door. The wood was dark with age, almost black, and seemed to grin maliciously at him. Daring him to take a step closer into its gaping jaws. Fresh, soft soil lay around it, having been turned and disturbed by whatever had sprung this deadly trap. Clearly this had happened recently. It lay across the passage, sitting in the dark waiting for another victim. Thorin stroked his beard, frowning all the while. There would be no going around it.

The Dwarf turned to go, but gave a start as he noticed a very distinguished footprint in the soft earth. He bent down to view it more closely, but gave a yelp as a sharp wave danced through him, causing him to crash to his knees. Taking a deep breath he willed himself to ignore the pain, and slowly but surely it died down to a throb. Examining the footprint he found it only to be as he feared. It was unmistakably the same size as Bilbo's.

"Bilbo!" He shouted frantically, the sound of his own voice echoing back as if to taunt him.

There was no answer.

Was the Hobbit dead? Had he been too late? Did Bilbo meet his end here?

"I've failed you Bilbo..." Thorin whispered to the darkness. Bilbo was dead, Thorin was probably as good as dead, and he had failed. Was this how the Quest was to end? In ruin?

"No!" The Dwarf set his jaw grimly. Bilbo was not dead. There was no proof of such a thing. The Quest would not end in ruin. Not while there was breath in his body.

He began to stand up, as his aching body begged for rest, but suddenly felt a queer sensation. The world about him began to spin, and he felt incredibly dizzy. A fire seemed to ignite within his very veins, burning with a fiendish fury. His breath came slow and ragged. Perhaps it was because he had stood up so quickly...

He leaned against the wall for support, holding his head as the world danced insanely about him in colors and shapes scarcely imaginable. What in Durin's name!? He stumbled back away from the fissure; he had no wish to be near it while he felt so unsteady. Gasping he faltered forward, calling the Hobbit's name once more. Catching his boot on an ill-fated rock, the Dwarf crashed heavily to the ground. A sickening crack echoed through the passage as his head met with the smooth cold stone. The world about him went dark, and Thorin knew no more.


	19. Chapter 19

**DISCLAIMER: SEE EARLIER CHAPTAHS. DANKE. **

**Well here's the next bit! Sorry I took so long, life is crazy sometimes dontcha know? Time just flies by, and before you know it it's been a week! :P**

**Thank you for all your comments! They are really great inspiration and encouragement to me! :)**

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"Running on ahead like that isn't going to help find your friend Mr. Baggins. You've got to watch your step in these places." Noeg advised, as Bilbo trotted on ahead clearly ill at ease.

Bilbo ignored this. The Hobbit felt guilty for leaving Thorin for so long, and the only solution he could see was to get back to the old storage room as soon as possible and hope that Thorin was still there. If he was not, it would be a long search. The caves had long since been abandoned, and with no Dwarves to keep the place in order, rooms changed or sunk into the depths, shifting and making new ones in their place. A constant and growing maze of stone.

A uncomfortable nervousness was welling up in the Hobbit, as he realized that Thorin was possibly his only means of ever hoping to see his Hobbit Hole again. That, combined with the fact that Bilbo had left the Dwarf only made him feel still worse. He should never have left.

"Bilbo?" Noeg questioned with arched eyebrow. "You alright?"

The Hobbit gave a queer nervous laugh at this. "Alright? No. I should say not. My friend," he gestured at the darkness, "Is out there. Somewhere. Hurt. Looking for me I shouldn't wonder. And it's all my fault." The Hobbit began moving forward even more quickly, "No. It's not going to be alright until I find him."

"Look Bilbo, I know you're upset." Noeg began, "But it's not going to get any better if you rush ahead and I have to fish you out of yet another pit."

"That wasn't entirely my fault." Bilbo countered, "Who in their right mind lays a trap in a passage anyway?"

"Oh I don't know." Noeg answered sarcastically, "Perhaps to take care of the uninvited, unsavory, and uncivilized visitors that abound in these parts."

Bilbo glared at him. "No one likes a clever clogs Noeg."

Noeg chuckled. "More's the pity. I'm afraid you're stuck with one."

"Just my luck." The Hobbit muttered. Noeg looked as if he had heard, his face taking on a gleeful look of delight. Perhaps Bilbo might have let that pass, but winced as the Dwarf began whistling a cheery tune.

"Oh Now you're just being annoying." Bilbo growled out, but the Dwarf didn't seem to hear him.

"Look!" Bilbo turned sharply, "Will you just stop that?"

"What?" Noeg looked around as if Bilbo might be talking to someone else. Finding no one he turned back to Bilbo.

"The whistling!" The Hobbit answered in a frustrated tone.

"Oh. That." Noeg shrugged, "Fine. If you're in such a sour mood then."

The Hobbit ignored this quip, trudging along forward with determination. If Thorin was in danger, then it fell to Bilbo to get him out of it. The trouble of it was however, that Noeg kept himself at an easy pace, carefully picking their way through the halls. The Hobbit was impatient to find the Dwarf, and wanted to get out of the caves at the nearest opportunity.

It was then that Noeg motioned for the Hobbit to stop, as he peered off into the darkness. Yet another delay. Bilbo gave a loud sigh.

"I don't like this one." Noeg said grimly. "We'll have to go another way."

"You don't seem to like any of them." Bilbo complained.

"I knew," Noeg began quietly, "A young Dwarf once. Much like yourself. Impatient. Rushing recklessly along these passages. You know what happened to him?"

"No...what?" Bilbo asked.

"He had the bad luck to walk straight into a cave-in. His lack of care cost him his life." The Hobbit detected a sense of bitterness in the Dwarf's voice. "He died. We weren't even able to recover the body."

"I'm sorry." The Hobbit said, "Was...was he a good friend of yours?"

"A good friend?" The Dwarf gave a sad smile. "I would say so. He was my brother."

"I'm so sorry!" The Hobbit managed.  
"Don't be." Noeg replied, "It happened a long time ago. Probably before you were even born. Just do me a favor and don't make the same mistake." The Dwarf clapped Bilbo on the shoulder.

"You're right." Bilbo finally said with a sigh. "I just wish there was a faster way to go about this business and be done with it."

"When we come to the main halls, it should be safe. It's just these particular passages can be tricky." Noeg lifted the torch and gestured ahead. "We've been working our way upwards, and should come to your campsite in a short time."

Bilbo nodded wordlessly and followed the Dwarf through the cool stone passage.

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"Is this it?" Noeg asked Bilbo, pointing to the large oaken door that had been left slightly ajar. The Hobbit sighed in relief. All was quiet, and undisturbed. Perhaps Thorin had stayed after all. He almost thought he could hear the familar Dwarven snoring.

"Yes!" Bilbo said, "Noeg, I can't thank you enough. Really."

The Petty Dwarf chuckled and stroked his red beard. "You're a guest in my home Mr. Baggins. It was my duty after all." but then added, "And besides. It's been a bit of an adventure don't y' think?" Grinning the Dwarf slapped Bilbo on the back. "Come on then. Introduce me to your friend."

With Noeg's help Bilbo was easily able to open the doors, as they groaned and creaked on their rusty hinges. With a moan the doors protested at the sudden movement. What met their eyes however, was far from a happy sight.

Thorin was gone.

"He's gone!" Bilbo squeaked in dismay, "He's gone! I wasn't quick enough!"

"Bilbo!" Noeg attempted to calm his distraught friend, "Calm yourself! He can't have gotten far."

"What if he has? How on earth are we going to find him!?"

"Well." Noeg replied thoughtfully, "If he is gone, then I'd expect he'd be looking for you."  
"And we have to retrace my steps." Bilbo finished Noeg's thought.

"Exactly!" Noeg beamed. "Do you remember the way?"

"I...I think I do." Bilbo furrowed his brow, willing himself to remember. He had always prided himself on having an exceptionally strong memory. Perhaps this was yet another moment where it would prove invaluable.

"Right." said Bilbo. "It's this way."

"Lead on." Noeg answered, as Bilbo followed the same path he had taken not too long ago that had nearly ended tragically. Noeg gave a sigh. He had really hoped to have more of a chat with the Hobbit then give him the grand tour of the Dwarf halls. But then again, it wasn't everyday that his days were this interesting.

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Perhaps an hour later found Bilbo and Noeg walking along a smooth hallway and nearing the same trap that Bilbo had unwittingly sprung upon himself. Both Noeg and Bilbo, sensing this, slowed their pace. Neither had any wish to repeat the events of earlier, having been lucky to escape with mere bumps and bruises. A few loose stones lay about, treacherously awaiting any unaware passersby.

Noeg then motioned for Bilbo to stop. Lifting the torch and casting its light far ahead revealed the ugly pit that had swallowed Bilbo only a few hours before. Bilbo shuddered, thinking of what fate he might have had if Noeg had not happened along. It was a good thing that his luck had been holding strong, at least so far. Now if only they could find Thorin quickly and be on their way...

"There's no possible way for anyone to find a way over that, and your friend doesn't appear to be here." Noeg thought out loud. "We'll turn back and begin the search fresh in another direction."

Seeing Bilbo's frustration the Dwarf added. "Bilbo. I give you my word that I will do all in my power to help you find your friend. We wi-" But before he could finish, an strong updraft came in a gust, blowing out the torch as easily as one blows out a candle.

"Don't move Bilbo." The Dwarf commanded. "Give me a moment to relight it."

Bilbo was only too happy to comply, fearing that any false move might send him tumbling down the deep hole once more. His sharp senses could hear the Petty Dwarf softly cursing beside him and fumbling in his pockets for something to light the torch with.

"Right." Noeg suddenly said. "Here it is." Bilbo heard the Dwarf strike something, and a flash followed. This being unsuccessful the Dwarf tried again.

"Takes a few tries sometimes to catch." The Dwarf mumbled, attempting to put Bilbo at ease. The flashes lit the cavern in brief intervals, giving an eery aura to the scene. Bilbo blinked as the light came sharply to his eyes and died yet again. Another curse from Noeg. The Hobbit took a step backwards.

Before he could do anything, Bilbo realized it was too late, and his foot was sliding along the stones and he had lost his balance and was falling. He gave a loud yelp as he crashed to the ground.

But instead of the hard and cold stones that he expected, he fell into something warm and having the distinct quality of being 'alive'. Scrambling away from it as fast as he could he felt yet another form bump into his back.

"Noeg!" he squeaked.

"It's me!" Noeg hissed back. "What is it?!"

"There's something alive over there!" The Hobbit pointed a shaky finger in the direction of the creature. unfortunately this did little good, as the darkness covered everything and anything.

"Keep facing it. Don't look away for a moment." The Dwarf ordered. Bilbo heard him strike something again, accompanied by the familar flash. Thankfully the torch lit this time to reveal a huddled form in the shadows. Bilbo's keen ears heard a soft ring as a blade was pulled out. Without a word Noeg pushed it into Bilbo's hand. The blade shone with a cold gleam. It was of Dwarvish make with an intricately carved olive-green pommel. Of plain materials, yet having a certain elegance to it. Dwarves take pride in their work, and regardless of the materials, each object was made as a work of art as well as functional. This blade being no different.

As Bilbo pointed it in readiness should the creature choose to attack, Noeg approached it slowly. Upon inspecting the form closer, it appeared to have human form, but smaller. Bending down cautiously, Noeg took it by the shoulder, turning it over to reveal a face.

"Thorin!" Bilbo gasped.

"So this is your friend?" Noeg asked.

Bilbo nodded. "Is he alright?"

Noeg placed a hand on the side of the Dwarf Lord's neck, checking for any vital signs. Furrowing his brow the Dwarf seemed displeased.

"He's alive." He finally said, much to Bilbo's relief, "But we need to get him back. I can't do anything here, and he isn't in a good way."

"Is he going to die?" Bilbo anxiously asked.

"No." said Noeg, "Not yet anyway. Come on. We need to get him back. I need your help. Feet or shoulders?"

"Feet." Bilbo said, not liking the prospect of carrying a (heavy) Dwarf at all.

"Come on then. He's not going to move himself." Noeg gestured for Bilbo to do his agreed part.

With a heave the Petty Dwarf and Hobbit lifted the larger Dwarf and began slowly making their way down the passage. Noeg grinned as he joked that Thorin had had one too many dinners. Bilbo was unable to appreciate it however, being too occupied with keeping his part from falling to the ground. Thorin was heavy, and the Hobbit was small. Noeg seemed to have very little trouble with it, but then again he was a Dwarf, and Dwarves are used to great and heavy loads for great distances. Hobbits hardly carry more than a good meal.

"This...is...ridiculous!" Bilbo grunted under his load.

Noeg chuckled, "Come on Mr. Baggins! Put your back into it!"

Bilbo gave the Petty Dwarf a murderous glare which only seemed to amuse the Petty Dwarf all the more. The Hobbit could only miserably remind himself that he was very sure this type of 'incident' had not been covered in the contract.


	20. Chapter 20

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, THEY ALL BELONG TO THE FABULOUS J.R.R. TOLKIEN. I MADE ABSOLUTELY NOTHING FROM THIS, AND ONLY MADE IT FOR FUN. DANKE. **

**Well, here is Chapter 20! Sorry I took so long getting it up. The next bits should come along faster. Hope you enjoy!**

**P.S. Don't forget to Review & Comment! ;)**

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Bilbo threw another log onto the fire, which crackled hungrily and danced around the wood licking it with its fiery tongues. Somehow or other, Noeg had remembered a stash of fuel that he had saved for 'a rainy day'. Despite Bilbo's initial protest, the Petty Dwarf was able to convince him that a fire was necessary in the circumstances. Luckily for them, it had been quite close to the storeroom, allowing for Bilbo to fetch the wood with little trouble and a fire to be built just as quickly. After they had carried the wood back, Noeg had quickly set to work, attempting a diagnosis of Thorin's ailment. Bilbo felt an uncomfortable mix of anxiety and frustration. Anxiety for his friend's safety, and frustration that he was unable to do more. Because of this, he had to content himself with tending to the fire.

The room was silent for a few moments save for the fire as it cast its light over the stone walls. Bilbo squirmed in his seat. He did not enjoy the sense of waiting, nor did he like having nothing to do. The fire seemed to be looking after itself well enough, and caused the task of tending to it an uninteresting one at best.

It was then that Noeg happened to notice Thorin's ring. With a soft and mumbled 'Hello what's this?', that was addressed more to himself than anyone in particular, his face took on a curious look as he gave it closer inspection. Upon reading the inscription and seal he was able to guess both the owner's identity and his lineage. Turning to Bilbo he hissed in a voice laden with disgust and resentment.

"You did not tell me that I was to aid...this, the Heir of Durin."

Bilbo looked surprised. "Does it matter?" he asked warily. What on earth was the matter?

"It does." The Dwarf frowned. "There is much bad blood between us."

Bilbo inwardly sighed. Why did it seem as if there was bad blood between the Dwarves and every people imaginable in Middle Earth? They seemed to be at war with nearly everyone. Now it was just other Dwarves. Perhaps it was an exaggeration, but at that moment it seemed like it to our Hobbit, who had just nearly had enough with Dwarves in general. Petty or otherwise.

"How...um-" here the Hobbit coughed, unsure of what to say exactly, "bad?"

"The worst." The Petty Dwarf growled, looking almost as if he was seriously considering throwing the Dwarf out of his halls, "It was his family that banished my people. It is due to them that my people suffered such misery and are now all but dust." He looked as if he was about to pass into a tirade of wrongs that his people had suffered, but taking a deep breath and thinking better of it said, "Why did you not tell me?" The Dwarf's eyes keenly studied Bilbo's face as the Hobbit answered.

"I honestly...had no idea." Bilbo managed awkwardly, "no idea that it mattered. These titles...are just names to me."

The Dwarf frowned.

"Will you help him?" Bilbo pleaded. "He's my friend, and hurt."

The Dwarf remained silent, and considering Bilbo's favor carefully, as the fire made the shadows flicker eerily. He glanced at the Hobbit, then back at Thorin. The Dwarf gave a sigh, and answered the Hobbit.

"I cannot. Not in good conscience."

Bilbo looked at him in disbelief and was speechless for a few moments. Finding his words he spoke in an excited voice that he used when arguing with his neighbors. Was Noeg simply not helping Thorin merely because of the deeds his ancestors had done?

"In good conscience?!" The Hobbit squeaked, "And yet you can let him die?!"

Noeg seemed to be taken slightly aback by this sudden attack, but before he could think of the words with which to answer it the Hobbit continued furiously.

"You can honestly,stand there and say that you will let him die." The Hobbit snapped his fingers for effect, "Just like that? All over a silly feud that has been all but forgotten? By all but you?"

"Some wounds go deep Mr. Baggins, so that even time cannot heal them, and some wrongs cannot be borne. This being one of them" The Petty Dwarf growled.

"Regardless what his fathers and great grandfathers and cousins have done or haven't done, he is not guilty of them. The father is not the son. You would actually let him die for deeds he has not done?!" The Hobbit could not believe what he heard.

"You expect me to forgive them?!" Noeg demanded incredulously.

"I'm not asking you to forgive them, I'm asking you to help him!" The Hobbit shouted back. Adding he said, "I don't understand you Dwarves and your feuds and 'bad blood'. Nor do I want to. Whatever disagreement you have with Thorin's family, It's been all but forgotten, but you're still clinging blindly to it. So that you are even willing to sacrifice a life to it." The Hobbit glared at the Dwarf, and shook his head, waving his hand dismissively and turning away from Noeg. A few minutes passed in silence, and it was finally Noeg who broke the silence.

"I will help him." he said slowly, shoulders sagging in defeat, "To the best of my ability. But I do it for your sake Mr. Baggins, and not his."

Bilbo turned back to Noeg, and nodded wordlessly, realizing this was the most Noeg would do.

"Thank you." The Hobbit said gratefully, and he meant it.

"Pray don't mention it." The Dwarf said glumly, "It burns my heart as it is."

Bilbo decided not to press the subject further. He had expressed his gratitude, and that was enough. Dwarves seemed to be rather sensitive in these matters, and it was best not to upset them. Whatever the doings between the Petty Dwarves and the Line of Durin, it seemed that Bilbo's words had done their work. Rifling the Dwarf's conscience enough to achieve the desired effect.

Following the blood stain on the larger Dwarf, Noeg was soon able to find the main source of discomfort. Grimacing at the sight of the ugly gash, the Petty Dwarf darkly muttered something about Thorin's inability to dress a wound properly. Frowning Noeg turned once more to Mr. Baggins.

Raising a questioning eyebrow the Dwarf began. "Did you know that he was poisoned?"

Bilbo jumped at this. "Poisoned?!" he gasped. He had thought from the beginning that the injury was more than Thorin was making it out to be, but poisoned? The prideful fool! If the situation had been less serious Bilbo would have snorted out loud.

"The wound's obviously been caused by a blade, an' granted folk in these parts aren't too friendly, but I doubt unfriendly enough to attack you. An' that leaves the truly nasty ones. Which leads me to believe you both had a run in with goblins. Am I right?"

The Hobbit nodded, "We did. Thorin saved my life. More than once."

"Ah." Noeg looked as if he understood, "He saved your life and got himself injured is that it?"

Without waiting for an answer Noeg continued, "Orc blades are usually poisoned, so that even a nick can prove lethal. No escape for their enemies, so that even when dead they still do their foul work." The Petty Dwarf muttered a curse.  
Bilbo placed a hand to his forehead, now understanding the Dwarf's behavior. No wonder Thorin had not wanted to eat. The puzzling behavior now started to piece itself together. Why on earth hadn't Bilbo thought of poison? Mentally, the Hobbit called himself a fool in several different ways.

"If I had known," The Hobbit lamented to himself, "I would never have let him carry me!"

"what?" Noeg asked, slightly confused.

"We were being chased by the orcs, and I hurt my foot and couldn't walk on it. Rather than leave me behind he insisted on carrying me." the Hobbit shook his head sadly.

The Dwarf looked at the Hobbit in disbelief, "He carried you? Well...In his condition I would call that the wisest thing to do."

The Hobbit didn't appear to hear. "I can't help but th-" But here he was interrupted by Noeg.

"Here now! None of that! It isn't your fault." The Dwarf gave Bilbo a warning look, as if he would not tolerate another similar sentence from the Hobbit. "You can't blame yourself for these things. They happen. How far did he carry you?"

"I don't know... A long way, but then he collapsed! He's...He's not going to die is he?" Bilbo looked at his friend anxiously.

"Not yet anyway." Noeg replied, attempting awkwardly to comfort the Hobbit, "Your friend's a strong one. It'll take more than an Orc scratch to end him. But I cannot help him"

"What?! Can't you help him?" Bilbo seemed confused.

It was a few moments before the Dwarf answered, "Yes..." he said slowly, "and No. I've seen this type of wound and poison before, but I lack the skill to heal it. I can clean the wound and give him something to abate the symptoms, but that will only slow the poison. I can't save him."

"You can't save him?" The Hobbit echoed in disbelief.

"No." Said Noeg, "I cannot." Seeing the Hobbit's face he added, "I swear to you Bilbo, on my Father's honor, that if I could save him I would!" The Dwarf appeared to be very sympathetic to the Hobbit, and in truth there was nothing he could do. He bore no love for the Line of Durin, but the Hobbit had been right, and he had attempted to save him.

The Hobbit looked as if he was frantically searching in his head for a way to save the Dwarf. Suddenly he shot out a word.

"Gandalf!" The Hobbit looked as if he had happened upon a fantastic idea.

Noeg raised an eyebrow. There had been few who had not heard of the wizard and his great deeds. The Grey Pilgrim was famed in many corners of the world, so that even word of him had reached this land. But surely the Hobbit did not think he could go trotting all over the world looking for a wizard that had a knack for only turning up when he desired to? The chances of finding the wizard, let alone convincing him to help Thorin, were undoubtedly against the Hobbit.

"If the Gandalf you mean is the Gandalf I think, the wizard. Then if anyone could save your friend it would be he. But I doubt he is in these parts."

"He is part of the company! The company we are to meet!" The Hobbit explained rapidly, "I have to get Thorin back. It's his only hope."

"Even if you had a wizard in your company, however unlikely, you would not reach them in time." Noeg countered.

"I have to try." The Hobbit said firmly. "If there's a chance I have to try."

Noeg smiled despite himself. The Hobbit was indeed a curious creature, at times he could be as timid as a mouse, at other times as fierce as a dragon in a pinch. The purpose with which the Hobbit now laid out his plan to save his friend touched the Dwarf's heart deeply. If there is one thing that Dwarves understand it is loyalty to one's friends and kin. It was almost infective.

"Very well." Noeg suddenly said, standing up "I will aid you then Bilbo Baggins, as far as I am able, and see that you are properly provisioned. Wouldn't do to go on a journey poorly stocked." He held out his hand to shake and as the Hobbit took it said,

"You are a good friend Bilbo Baggins." and glancing towards Thorin he added, "He is lucky to have such a friend."

The Hobbit smiled despite himself. "Yes." Bilbo almost seemed amused by the idea, " Yes. I suppose he is."


	21. Chapter 21

**DISCLAIMER: SAME AS BEFORE SEE EARLIER CHAPTERS. **

**Author's note: Sorry I took so long and this one is so short! Life's been getting a bit crazy for me. :P**

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Thorin gave out a groan. To put it simply, he felt terrible. It was true that Dwarves were very hardy folk, able to withstand greater injuries than man or Hobbit, but the last few hours had definitely taken their toll. Giving a hiss as his eyelids opened and let the firelight in, he could not help but wonder if it was better being unconscious. His head felt as if someone had attempted to squash it, a soft ringing as he cleared his senses. Giving another low moan as his head ached mercilessly, he pulled his hand up to soothe his roaring temple.

_What in Durin's name happened?_

"Thorin!" came a warm and friendly voice, sounding as if greatly relieved.

The voice sounded familiar. Very familiar indeed. But with the world swimming about him and his head seeming to scream for his full attention, Thorin couldn't place it. Struggling to sit up, he glared at the creature's shape defiantly.

"Thorin! It's me!" Now the voice seemed deeply concerned.

Thorin snorted mentally. The voice ought to be concerned. He was a Dwarf warrior, and something to be reckoned with, although not in the best state. But appearances were everything. He would not let his guard down.

Although Thorin did not realize it, the voice actually belonged to our Mr. Baggins. Who upon finding the Dwarf had been overjoyed that his friend had finally woken, but was now deeply worried at the Dwarf's obvious lack of recollection. In fact the Dwarf seemed almost delusional.

"Get back." Thorin growled, looking as if he truly meant it.

The Hobbit quickly tried to remember what one was supposed to do in these situations, but despite having heard many such stories, could not remember one solution save for coffee. Unfortunately, that was unable to be had in the present situation. But wait! An old remedy suddenly came to the Hobbit. Of course! This had to work.

"Sorry Thorin!" The Hobbit said as politefully as could be managed, what he was about to do was not often carried out with royalty. But royalty or not, Thorin needed to wake up.

"But.." the Hobbit continued, suddenly taking a quick step towards the Dwarf, "You leave me...no choice!" With a quick and deft movement, the Hobbit's hand swung forward, meeting the Dwarf's face. Falling back more because of the shock of the sting, rather than the force of the blow, Thorin gasped, blinking owlishly and staring at the Hobbit. Closing his eyes and shaking his head vigorously, as if to clear his muddled head, the Dwarf looked up at the Hobbit once more. Recognition dawning on his features.

"Bilbo..." The Dwarf slowly said, looking puzzled.

Bilbo gave a sigh of relief, allowing his tired frame to finally sink down into a sitting position next to the Dwarf. For one of Bilbo's size carrying large and heavy Dwarves is hard work, and he had not allowed himself to rest while Thorin was unconscious, but seeing the Dwarf now awake and aware of his surroundings leaned his grateful body against the cool cave wall.

Giving a friendly grin the Hobbit began, "You know for a moment there I thought yo-" But was interrupted by Thorin, who seemed very displeased at being unable to understand what had exactly happened.

"First things first." The Dwarf growled darkly, "Where. Have. You. Been." The Dwarf's features were dark and fierce, and despite his health looked as if he would box the Hobbit's ears should he give the wrong answer.

Bilbo had the grace (or wisdom) to look ashamed. "I'm sorry Thorin." He said, meaning every word, "I was wrong to leave. I put both of our lives in danger, and well...been a plain fool." The Hobbit stiffened, readying himself for the torrent of angry words that were sure to come from Thorin. Although it pained the Hobbit to admit it, the Dwarf was well within his rights to be angry. Bilbo, though unwittingly, had nearly sabotaged the entire journey. Almost causing both of them a long and painful death.

"I am sorry Thorin." Bilbo finished, emphasizing his apology.

Thorin first appeared as if he was going to say something rather cutting, but suddenly looked as if he thought better of it. Muttering something darkly under his breath, the Dwarf leaned back against the cave wall with a sigh, closing his eyes and breathing deep ragged breaths.

"It's alright." The Dwarf finally managed, but so quietly that the Hobbit barely caught it.

"What?!" Bilbo said in disbelief. "You're...You're not angry?"

" 'Course I am." The Dwarf replied, eyes still closed, "Even a Hobbit of the Shire should know better than to run off. And don't think you've gotten out of anything. You've got a long lecture coming. Members of the Company cannot simply decide to go exploring whenever it pleases them, otherwise we will have anarchy."

Bilbo, despite himself, smiled. It was good to have Thorin back. Battered, but alive. The Dwarf's face had a haggard appearance, and everything about him spoke exhaustion. His breath came in ragged gasps, and although Bilbo was overjoyed to have him back, He could not help but feel somewhat frightened at seeing his friend thus. Thorin had always seemed a pinnacle of strength that could never fall, leading the company safely from danger to danger, always leading the way.

The Hobbit shivered, wishing that Noeg would return. The Petty Dwarf had said that he must travel back to his home in order to procure the ingredients needed that would help Thorin. Seeing Thorin almost seeming as if he was purely focussing on existing caused a nameless dread to begin to grow inside the Hobbit. Thorin was far from being in the best of health, and Bilbo did not like to think of what might come. Bilbo fiddled with his pocket nervously, but there was no pocket watch. He had left his behind. The emptiness in the air seemed to have their fate fixed, and was invisibly counting down the minutes. Was Thorin going to die? Would they make it to Gandalf on time?

As Bilbo was thinking these morose thoughts, Thorin's voice cut through his musings.

"One thing I am curious about Mr. Baggins." The Dwarf began.

"Look. We're not doing a business agreement or anything, why not just call me Bilbo?" Bilbo corrected with a little irritation. Why did Dwarves act as if everything was a business proposition and must be handled accordingly?

"Bilbo." Thorin amended his statement with an amused smile, "I can't help but wonder, how in Arda's name did you manage to find me?"

It was now Bilbo's turn to be amused, "I suppose I'll have to blame it on luck." The Hobbit smirked.

"Well it seems to me," Thorin mused outloud, "That the Valar has given you an unusually great amount. Rather unfair of them; I might even write a letter of complaint someday."

Bilbo gazed at the Dwarf, not quite knowing what was meant. Was Thorin making a joke? To him? Thorin didn't make jokes, and usually said as little as possible to the Hobbit. Thorin turned slightly with some difficulty, looking Bilbo in the eye and raising a quirky eyebrow. The action appeared alien to Thorin's features, and Bilbo couldn't help but stare.

The Dwarf rolled his eyes, "That was a jest you know Bilbo. I'm not entirely unable to have a good joke when the mood takes me."

Thorin appeared somewhat ruffled that his joke did not have the desired effect, and Bilbo could swear he had something of a pouty look that perhaps a boy might have if things did not go his way. It was so curious that Bilbo suddenly felt laughter bubbling up from his very toes.

Thorin looked slightly uncomfortable at the sound of merriment coming from the Hobbit.

"It's a little late to laugh at it don't you think?" he asked, annoyed.

Bilbo shook his head, chuckling softly and slapping his thigh. He attempted to take a draw of his pipe, but it ended disastrously. The Hobbit was immediately torn between peals of laughter and coughing from the smoke.

Thorin frowned and crossed his arms, disliking the situation immensely. Hobbits were strange creatures, and found the most unremarkable things either breathtaking or hilarious. Clearly, a mistake had been made somewhere when they were first made.

He lay back, against the cool wall, feeling weariness come over him once more. Let the Hobbit laugh if it made him feel better. Why should he care? The Dwarf glared at a corner of the cave, ignoring Bilbo and his doings.

A small hand suddenly patted Thorin on the shoulder. Looking upwards Thorin found the Hobbit smiling warmly.

"I'm glad you're alright Thorin." Bilbo said, and he meant it. "It's good to have you back."

Thorin felt his cheeks grow hot with embarrassment It was he who was supposed to rescue the Hobbit. The events had shaped strangely and gone the exact opposite. He shrugged and mumbled something, but the Hobbit either did not hear or was too happy to pay it any heed.

Thorin sighed, he did not like these situations. It was true, Dwarves were very different from these Halflings. But, he'd rather have Dwarves any day, at least they made sense. He began thinking of his company, of his nephews and friends, of where they might be, and if they were alright. Even as these thoughts crossed his mind, he felt sleep tugging at his eyelids once more. The Hobbit had fallen to tending the fire with his back turned to the Dwarf.

"Tomorrow..." The Dwarf half-muttered, "we need. need to make haste if we are to reach the c..company."

"Not in your condition." Bilbo answered firmly. "You're not going to be going anywhere for a few days at least."

The Dwarf's eyes shot open. Did his ears deceive him? Had the Halfling said 'no'?

"I am perfectly fit to travel." The Dwarf growled, "We will break camp and leave tomorrow, so let there be an end to it."

"Thorin," Bilbo began, exasperated with the foolish Dwarf's stubbornness. "You can hardly walk, or have you forgotten that you've been poisoned?"

Thorin gave a soft gasp, how had the Halfling known? How long had he known?

"Yes," The Hobbit frowned, as if reading his thoughts, "I know all about that."

Thorin for perhaps once in his life, had nothing to say. His mind had absolutely no way of dealing with this problem, which had been unexpected if anything. He had not felt this way since long ago as a Dwarfling, being caught red handed and no way to get out of the situation.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bilbo asked quietly.

"It was nothing more than a scratch." The Dwarf said, but then decided to answer truthfully and added, "...at the time"

Bilbo crossed his arms, "I've heard of bearing one's wounds, but this," He gestured with his hand, looking almost lost for words, "is bordering on ridiculous."

The Dwarf bristled at this, "I did what was necessary." he retorted.

"It was stupid." Bilbo snapped, "You carried me, while you were poisoned!"

"It was either that or I could have left you behind!" Thorin barked.

"That's what you should have done!" Bilbo shouted, "You almost killed yourself!"

"Really?" Thorin snarled, "Well as I see it I've done both of us a favor. We're both alive." He closed his eyes, feeling tired and not wanting to argue anymore.

"Thorin-" Bilbo began earnestly.

"Mr. Baggins." The Dwarf said coldly, "I am tired. Do not wake me unless at the utmost emergency."

Bilbo's shook his head in exasperation. The Dwarf was really ridiculous. Thorin thought that no one else's advice mattered other than his own, that just because of his title he could have the last say, that because of his lineage he was never wrong. If one could call pride a disease, it had certainly manifested itself in this Dwarf.

He leaned against the wall looking at Thorin. Perhaps it was imagined, but at times it seemed as if Thorin and Bilbo could be friends, as in real friends. But always, there was that wall between their friendship. That invincible wall of pride. The Hobbit growled under his breath. If Thorin did not want to be friends and merely wanted to argue all the time then it could not be helped. A man made his own decisions and had to abide by them. Bilbo could not change that.


End file.
